


Bloodstains and Tears

by a_quirk_called_insanity



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Finally!!!, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, M/M, Now complete, Poor Reid gets hurt, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Violence, Whump, You Have Been Warned, reid-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-04-30 21:53:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 23,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5181056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_quirk_called_insanity/pseuds/a_quirk_called_insanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reid finds himself the target of a stalker who knows way too much about him. Bad turns to worse when his stalker abducts him and proceeds to carry out his dark, twisted fantasies on him, all while his team desperately searches for the man responsible.<br/>NOW COMPLETE!!!!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!  
> So, this is most definitely NOT my first fanfiction, but it's the first one I've ever shared publicly, so please go easy on me! But before you proceed, PLEASE read my warnings. This is not a story for younger audiences. It contains rape and elements of violence, so if either of these bother you, I would not recommend continuing. If you do, though, I hope you enjoy! I'll try to update frequently, but there might be a few time gaps.  
> I'd really appreciate it if you took the time to leave a comment! Since this is the first story I've ever posted, I really want to know what you like and what I need to improve on. Please no all-out hate, though!  
> Oh, one more thing! This first chapter is pretty short, but they'll get a bit longer as they go on.  
> Without further ado, ENJOY!

Reid woke up to silence.  
For some people, that would be normal. But for him, it meant only one thing. He glanced at his clock for confirmation and cursed. He had overslept. He practically leapt out of bed and made a mad dash to the bathroom, tearing off his clothes as he went. He flipped on the shower and jumped in, yelping as the frigid water doused his skin. He didn’t have time to wait for it to warm up, so he took a speedy shower, finishing before the temperature got comfortable. He grabbed a towel and furiously dried himself. He knew his hair would be sticking up in all directions from such rough treatment, and the rest of his team would tease him about it, but he didn’t bother with a brush. That would take too long.  
Ten minutes later, Spencer was ready and going out the door, knowing if he ran, he might just-  
Reid stopped. Sitting in front of his apartment door was a plain white envelope. There were no words or stamps on it, which meant it hadn’t been put through the mail. He carefully picked it up and (against his better judgment) opened it. Inside was a single slip of paper, which he extracted. Immediately, he felt sick. For typed on it, in black print, was one simple thing: Genesis 23:4.  
Reid ran back inside his apartment and, for the second time that morning, sprinted to the bathroom. He dropped to his knees and began emptying the meager contents of his stomach into the toilet, all while trying to hold back memories that were threatening to overwhelm him.  
Raphael holding a gun to his forehead, ordering him to choose one of his team members, one of his family members, to die. His brain working at a million miles an hour despite his pounding headache and mild concussion to find a way out of all this. Finally choosing Hotch and misquoting Genesis 23:4 in a desperate attempt to tell them where he was. Praying (oh, the irony) he hadn’t just sentenced Aaron to death, that they would find him before it was too late.  
Reid took a deep breath and tried to stop his hands from trembling. His stomach had finally stopped its rebelling and it settled back to its former state. Still shaking, Reid stood back up and flushed the toilet, getting rid of his violent reaction to the contents of the envelope. Then he squared his shoulders and shoved the envelope as far down in his messenger bag as possible, copying the actions with the thoughts swimming in his brain.  
* * * * * * * * * *  
“Pretty boy!” Morgan called as soon as Reid stepped into the bullpen, slightly paler than usual. “You’re late! What happened?” Reid inwardly winced. He had missed his train and had to wait 20 more minutes for the next one to come (using the time to run through theories about the note outside his apartment). He’s been hoping he could slip in unnoticed, but now, that plan was ruined.  
“My alarm didn’t go off and I missed my train,” Reid replied, hoping Morgan wouldn’t get too close to him and end up smelling the lingering stench of vomit that no amount mints had been able to hide.  
Reid dodged the rest of his team and went up to the breakroom, where he gave up on using the sugar spoon and instead picked up the entire container and dumped half of the sugar into his coffee cup. He could already tell it was going to be a long day, and he would need as much energy as possible to get through it. He took a sip of his extremely sugary concoction and winced at the mixture of the coffee’s heat and sweetness. Even though it didn’t taste good, it would have to do. He took another sip as he made his way back to his desk- and immediately spat it back out. Sitting on his pile of files was a plain white envelope.  
With shaking hands and a stomach full of butterflies, Reid picked it up and reached inside. The piece of paper was identical to the first one, except for what it said. ‘Hydromorphone hydrochloride’. The scientific name of Dilaudid. Reid’s stomach lurched unpleasantly. Someone knew about Georgia, and not just what had happened. They knew specific details. Things that weren’t on any case files. Just the thought of someone watching those videos, and then somehow finding out about his past addiction, was enough to send him on a beeline for the restroom. He once again heaved up his guts (not literally, of course; if that was the case, he would’ve dialed 911). As soon as he was finished, he saw a third envelope resting in the closest stall. The nausea was replaced with dread. What would he find in this envelope? Who was leaving them? How? Did he have a stalker? Reid tore open the envelope and was surprised to find multiple pieces of paper inside. He quickly read all of them, sighing with relief when none of them triggered more vomiting.  
Bennington Sanitarium  
The chess master’s last  
William runs away  
You like lots of sugar in your coffee, eh?  
Henry  
I could make you beg  
Suddenly, Reid felt a hand on his shoulder. He jumped and whipped his head around, letting out the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding when he saw it was only Morgan.  
“You alright, kid?” he asked, his voice full of concern. “You left in quite a hurry.” There was a pause, and Reid guessed it was him noticing what was in the toilet and the collection of paper pieces in his hands. “What’s all that?”  
Reid looked down at his hands. There was a total of two envelopes and 7 identically-sized pieces of paper in his grip. It must’ve been a strange sight for Morgan- Reid kneeling in front of a vomit-filled toilet, holding paper in both his hands and frowning.  
Slowly, Reid opened his mouth and managed to tell Morgan, “I think I have a problem."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reid tells his team about the notes he's found, and they try to build a profile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's chapter two! I had to do a bit of research so that Reid can be his usual, fact-spouting self. Again, I really appreciate feedback, especially since I don't really know what I'm doing :P.  
> Enjoy!

“What have you received so far?” Prentiss asked. She, along with JJ, Hotch, Morgan, Rossi, and Garcia, were all seated around the round table, varying degrees of concern visible on their faces, watching Reid. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, feeling like there was a spotlight shining on him. A very bright spotlight. Nevertheless, he took a deep breath.  
“The first one contained ‘Genesis 23:4’, the second had ‘hydromorphone hydrochloride’, and the third one had six inside: ‘Bennington Sanitarium’, ‘the chess master’s last’, ‘William runs away’, ‘You like lots of sugar in your coffee, eh?’, ‘Henry’, and ‘I could make you beg for me’.” As he recited each statement (staring at the pile of notes and ripped envelopes in front of him the whole time to avoid making eye contact) the atmosphere went from tense to suffocating.  
Hotch was the first to speak. “I think it’s safe to say that there’s someone who knows very… private things about you.”  
“He knows where my mother is,” Reid said quietly. “He most likely knows about her condition, too. She might be in danger.”  
“Hold on a second,” Rossi interrupted. “The last six I get, but what about the first two? I’m guessing they’re from before I got here.”  
“Genesis, chapter 23 verse 4. I am a stranger and a sojourner with you,” Reid automatically began to recite, and he could see everyone except Rossi exchanging glances in his peripheral vision. “Give me property, forbear a place among you that I may bury my dead out of my sight.” Reid hesitated before adding, “Hydromorphone hydrochloride isn’t a chemical. It’s a narcotic pain reliever, used for moderate to severe pain relief.” Reid continued to talk, wanting to disguise his discomfort towards the subject with facts, something he always seemed to do. “Hydromorphone was first synthesized and researched in Germany in 1924; Knoll Industries introduced it to the mass market in 1926 under the brand name Dilaudid, indicating its derivation and degree of similarity to morphine* -”  
“Okay, okay,” Rossi cut him off, looking like he regretted asking, and Reid was glad. It meant that he would likely not try to bring up that specific subject again. “But I still don’t get the bible verse.”  
“It was the verse that Reid used to save his own life in the Tobias Hankel case in Georgia,” Hotch answered, and a look of understanding passed between the two older men. Reid couldn’t decide if he should be feeling angry that Hotch had told Rossi about the case and what had happened to him, or glad that he wouldn’t have to explain its significance himself.  
“Henry is also mentioned,” JJ spoke up, quickly making eye contact with Reid. “He probably is referring to my son, since he’s Reid’s godson.” Reid was thankful for the change of subject, even though it was for JJ’s benefit as well as his own. He knew she still blamed herself, no matter how many times he insisted she wasn’t responsible.  
“William runs away could refer to your father leaving you,” Morgan added.  
“I think chess master might be Gideon,” Reid said. “Although the meaning of last is unclear. Last words, last chess match, last time he was seen, last case,” Reid listed possibilities, stopping himself before he could add ‘last breath’.  
“There are two that seem out of place,” Prentiss mused. “The one about coffee, and the very last one, both have a completely different tone. Until then, he was simply listing things he knew about you. These seem more like parts of a conversation. Plus, they’re both full sentences and not just words or phrases.”  
“The coffee one reveals that either he’s seen Reid drink coffee before, at home or at work, or he’s heard Reid order at a coffee shop before.” Morgan was entering profiler mode. Reid could hear him struggling to depersonalize the case, but it was better than everyone tiptoeing around him. Even though there were some extremely sensitive or private subjects being breached, he preferred everyone acting as if it wasn’t about him.  
“And the last one is the most aggressive,” Rossi was still frowning, but he wasn’t pursuing the earlier topic, for which Reid was grateful. “He must’ve been keeping himself in check, but once he got to the last one, he couldn’t help himself. But his motive is still unclear.”  
“He could be trying to scare you,” Hotch suggested. “If the purpose is to cause you emotional distress, he could easily be a sadist. If that’s the case, he might not be fully in control of himself. He might even graduate to causing you physical harm as well. It would be smart to set up a guard at your apartment, just in case.”  
“What I want to know is how he found out so much about me. And how did he make it so that I would find all three envelopes?”  
“I can check security footage,” Garcia offered. “The cameras may have caught him. And, well, I can-” Garcia paused, then said quickly, “I can see if anyone hacked into the Georgia video feed file.”  
“There’s a file?” Reid whispered incredulously. His captivity, some of the worst, most vulnerable moments of his life, were just laying around in the BAU database for anyone to see? This was getting better and better.  
“Not exactly,” Garcia assured him. “Strauss said I had to follow protocol, so I made a copy and saved it to her Georgia file. But it was sealed and there was a warning on it to only open it if absolutely needed.”  
Reid relaxed slightly, his mental image of a random agent stumbling across the footage disappearing.  
“Alright,” Hotch said, assuming his ‘I’ve let you all talk, but I’m still the leader of this team’ voice. “Garcia, I need you to go through the security footage and check for any breaches. Morgan and Prentiss, go back to Reid’s apartment. See if anyone saw anything, and check for any hidden cameras or bugs. Don’t worry about being discreet- if he’s really watching Reid, he already knows that we know. JJ, go check on Henry and Will. We don’t know if he poses any threat to Henry, but it’s better to be safe. Rossi, I need you to explain the situation to Strauss. Don’t let her take us off the case. Reid and I will start working on a profile.” Everyone nodded and began splitting up, anxious to find whoever was doing all of this as soon as possible.  
“Wait, Morgan, Prentiss!” Reid called. “You’ll need a key. Now’s really not a good time to practice kicking down doors.” He fished the key out of his pocket and pressed it into Prentiss’s hand. “Could you make sure Morgan doesn’t completely wreck everything?” he asked Prentiss, who nodded. Morgan smirked behind her.  
As soon as the room was empty, (besides Hotch and Reid) the team leader sighed. “I’m sorry, but we’ll have to do a bit of digging into your life.” Reid copied Hotch’s sigh and massaged his temples, a headache already blossoming under his skull. It had already been a long day, and it wasn’t even lunch. He wasn’t looking forward to anyone, even if they were his friends, sifting through his life. There wasn’t much that his team didn’t already know about in his file, but that didn’t mean it felt like a violation of his privacy. Depends on how far back they go, his brain nagged him. If they go into that file… Reid shook the though from his head. There was no logical reason for Garcia to go that far back. And if she did, he could come up with an excuse. After all, he had numerous times before.  
“Is there anyone you know that could be doing this?” Hotch asked softly.  
“No one. At least, no one comes to mind.”  
“Anyone or anything suspicious in the last few years?” Reid shook his head. “You’re being awfully quiet. No statistics to offer?”  
“Each year, approximately 6.6 million people living in the US are stalked each year. One in six women and one in 19 men have experienced a stalking in their lives. 78% of victims are women, and 87% of offenders are men. One in 13 stalking victims are stalked using a form of electronic monitoring. Only 10% of victims were stalked by strangers. 41% of male victims reported that their stalker was male, and 43% said they were female. Three in 10 victims reported being injured emotionally or psychologically by their stalkers. 25 to 35% of stalking cases involve physical violence. ” Reid sighed. “I have plenty of statistics to offer, they just aren’t necessarily good.” It was true. Lila Archer had been lucky to escape unharmed.  
“We should start working on a profile. If only 10% are stalked by strangers, then you most likely know them.” Reid raised his eyebrows, mildly surprised that Hotch had been listening closely enough to repeat something he had said.  
“This isn’t a matter of intelligence or jealousy,” Reid began. “He doesn’t bother trying to sound sophisticated, and my IQ, eidetic memory, and reading speed are never mentioned. Also, he doesn’t just focus on the positive aspects of my life. There’s no mention of my job or any of you. He tries to stay professional, distant, but fails twice. He could be emotionally unstable. There may have been instances at work where he had sudden outbursts, and he may have been fired because of them.”  
“He’d have to have the time to place these notes,” Hotch added. “If we factor in emotional stability, he might be unemployed, or have a job that doesn’t require too much human interaction. If it turns out that he’s hacked into any files, he’d have to have good computer skills. Maybe he works with technology for a living.”  
“Based on victimology,” Reid continued, preferring to keep at least a little distance between him and the case. “He’s most likely a single white male, in his thirties to forties. There are multiple reasons why he could be doing this- sadism, psychological torture, desire, obsession, resentment, anger,” Reid paused. “The list goes on.”  
“At the least, he’s well-organized. He may have experience. This almost seems too meticulous, too planned-out for a psychopath or sadist-”  
“Unless he’s using the notes as a form of psychological torture. Finding mysterious notes hidden around your life, containing some of your closest-kept secrets, not knowing when you’ll find the next one, realizing he would’ve had to stalk you for a while to execute all this…” Reid trailed off uncomfortably. Thankfully, Hotch picked up where he left off.  
“That would definitely inspire fear.”  
The two men continued to trade theories back and forth, exploring possibilities and trying to narrow down the profile. Reid’s headache steadily increased the whole time. They didn’t know enough about the UnSub to build a solid profile. Until one of his teammates found a lead their ideas would remain just that- ideas.  
Finally, Hotch’s phone rang. Garcia. “I’m putting you on speaker,” Hotch warned. “It’s just me and Reid right now.”  
“Alright, sir,” Garcia responded. “Well, the file had been hacked. I tried to trace it, but they rerouted through multiple foreign hosts. The most I could get was that he’s somewhere in Virginia.”  
Reid swallowed and shut his eyes for a moment. It made him nauseous to think about someone hacking into the video and watching him be tortured, both physically and mentally, before dying. And they couldn’t trace him. For all they knew, he could even work at the BAU.  
“Then there’s the security footage,” Garcia continued. “He avoided showing his face to any cameras, but in order to go unnoticed, he hid in plain sight. He’s white, with dark hair. He’s also pretty buff- he could rival my chocolate thunder. I ran the image through a few programs, and they estimated he’s about 6’1. But that’s it.”  
“Thanks, Garcia,” Hotch said before hanging up. Only a moment later, his phone rang again.  
“Hotch,” Morgan was the one to greet him this time. “Prentiss and I just finished up here. No one saw anything suspicious, and we couldn’t find any hidden cameras or bugs. This guy isn’t watching Reid while he’s at his apartment- at least, not from the inside.”  
“Technically, he doesn’t need to,” Reid sighed. Another dead-end. “All the notes he’s left have contained information he could’ve gotten from my file or through stalking.”  
“Great.” Prentiss’s frustration could be heard through the phone. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to wait for more notes to show up.”  
“Until then, I’m placing a guard outside your door,” Hotch said to Reid. “Hopefully, he’ll leave more notes, and they’ll reveal more about him.” But all Reid could think was that he wished he would never find another note.  
Sadly, you don’t always get what you wish for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that ending wasn't too melodramatic. Like always, PLEASE leave a comment!  
> Thanks for reading, and have a nice day! :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reid returns to his apartment, only to find another note waiting for him. This time, though, there's something else waiting for him. Or should I say, someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, just a quick warning- this is where we start to get to the reason I rated this explicit. Contains violence and rape. Proceed with caution.  
> Besides that, I hope you enjoy! Like always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

Reid let out a sigh as he walked past Jeremy Walker, the man assigned to keep watch while Reid was home, and entered his apartment. Although the idea of being stalked still made his stomach tie itself into knots, there was a comfort in knowing that there wasn’t someone spying on him at his house- at least, not through technology. All he wanted to do was make a cup of coffee and read. He wanted to forget that this had ever happened. However, when he saw a patch of white in the edge of his vision, he knew that this wouldn’t be ending any time soon. He turned towards his table and groaned when he saw a small slip of paper, innocently lying right where he would find it. No envelope this time. The UnSub clearly didn’t want him to feel safe, even in his own home. This time, though, it wasn’t just a note. It was accompanied by a single red rose.  
Spencer picked up the note and found only one word- Briar. Briar… Reid scanned through his mental library, searching for anything having to do with the word Briar. Briar, briar, briar… He picked up the rose and studied it, searching for any abnormalities, but it appeared to be a just a normal flower.   
Briar rose.  
Almost immediately, his brain made the connection. He took a closer look at the red blossom, trying to piece together what the puzzle meant. Finally, he understood, and his conclusion brought a sour taste to his mouth. But just as the final piece fell into place, he felt a sharp pain on his neck, and his vision blurred. Damnit. His knees buckled, and he landed on his kneecaps with a thud. The UnSub had come for him. He distantly hoped that Jeremy would burst in through his door, but in all likelihood, he was knocked unconscious or even dead. He would disappear, and his team probably wouldn’t even realize he was gone until tomorrow. He had to leave them something. With his last remaining strength, he ripped off one of the rose petals. When he collapsed onto his side and his arm flopped next to the couch, he released the petal. Hopefully, his team would find it, and come to the same conclusion that he had.   
As the world around him further dimmed, Reid saw a pale hand reach down and snatch the rose from him. He could feel someone’s hot breath on the side of his face, could hear the stranger’s soft chuckle. The sound sent a shiver down Reid’s spine, and he would’ve punched the man if he could only move his arms.  
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Dr. Reid,” the man whispered. “I’m sure it’ll be fun to get to know you.” A cloth was wrapped around Reid’s head, covering his eyes and plunging him into darkness, which meant he couldn’t see the room fade to black, but he still felt the drug injected into his neck send him plunging into a dark oblivion.  
* * * * * * * * * *  
Exactly ten hours and 22 minutes later, Chris Hanley blearily pushed open his door. He loved his new job, and the high salary that came with it, but having to leave home at 6 in the morning was a struggle. He rubbed the lingering sleep from his eyes, but when he lowered his hands, he paused. All the blood drained from his face. He was hallucinating from lack of sleep- he had to be- for splayed across the hallway floor, surrounded by bloodstained carpet, was a man. Stabbed in the stomach once-twice-no, nine times. And he was dead. Chris’s heart seemed to stop. With trembling hands, he drew his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed.  
“911, what’s your emergency?” a female voice recited.   
“Uh, well,” he licked his lips, on the verge of throwing up. “There’s a guy in the hallway of my apartment building.”  
“A guy?” the operator repeated. “Can you be more specific?”   
“A cop,” Chris clarified, seeing the badge on his belt and gun in his hand. “And- oh, Christ- there’s blood everywhere, and-” he grabbed his stomach, which had begun to writhe, and gagged. “He’s- he’s dead.”  
* * * * * * * * * *  
Prentiss cringed as she entered Reid’s apartment. Even though Hotch had already explained the situation over the phone, seeing it made it more, well, real.   
Last night, Reid had been abducted.  
“Hey,” Morgan greeted her solemnly. Prentiss gave a nod in return. Rossi and Hotch were already in the living room, searching for possible clues. The whole place had been covered with police tape and tiny red flags. The whole place was crawling with officers- interviewing neighbors, talking with a man who appeared to be in shock, observing the body of Reid’s guard, taking notes. It was almost like any other case, any other crime, except for the fact that she knew everything around her was Reid’s.  
“He stabbed Officer Walker nine times,” Hotch told her grimly. “One of Reid’s neighbors, Christopher Hanley, found the body and called 911. He’s being interviewed right now.”  
“The UnSub left a note,” Rossi added, equally solemn. “All it said was Briar.”  
“Can I see it?” Prentiss asked, and Hotch shook his head.   
“They bagged it up and brought it to a lab to test for DNA. Apparently, Reid’s fingerprints were found on it. He had read the note, but that’s it. We couldn’t find his coat or shoes, which means the note must have been a distraction.”  
“No signs of a struggle,” Morgan chimed in. “No blood, either. A few scuff marks near the table indicate that he was dragged. Which means he was knocked out somehow.”  
Prentiss approached the table, following her co-workers leads and forcing down her emotions. Being angry or guilty wouldn’t help them find Reid. “So the note was here,” she began, seeing the numbered marker. “Reid picks it up, but puts it back down. That doesn’t make sense. If it was a distraction, wouldn’t the UnSub knock him out while he was reading it?”  
“We think there might have been a second note,” Hotch explained. “The UnSub must’ve taken it with him, to keep us from reading it. It may have been a second piece to the puzzle, one that was essential. And while Reid was trying to figure out what it meant, he was attacked.”  
“Okay, let’s go with that. So I’m reading the note,”  
“And while you’re trying to figure out what it means,” Morgan continued. “I sneak up behind you and knock you out.”  
“I fall,” Prentiss said, miming collapsing. “And…” she squinted at the couch next to the table. “I drop what’s in my hand,” she breathed. Prentiss dropped to the ground and reached under the couch, feeling around. Rossi, Hotch, and Morgan stood around her, not daring to hope. Finally, Prentiss gave a cry of triumph and sat back onto her heels, holding a small, red object in her gloved hands. “A rose petal!” she exclaimed, her entire face lighting up. “Can someone call Garcia?”  
Hotch pulled out his phone and dialed up Garcia. “Did you find Reid yet?” Penelope asked quietly.  
“Not yet, baby girl,” Morgan replied. “But we might have lead. I need you to search for any relation between the word ‘briar’ and a rose petal.”   
Garcia gasped. “Are you kidding me? Did none of you have a childhood?” The four agents exchanged glances. “Well, my prince charming, it’s only from one of the most romantic fairy tales of all time! Briar Rose was another name for Sleeping Beauty! The princess who is cursed to fall into a deep sleep, but is woken by true love’s kiss?”   
Realization dawned on Hotch’s face. “I’ve read that story to Jack,” he realized. “You there,” Hotch ordered, grabbing a random officer and handing him the petal. “Get that to the lab to be tested.” The officer nodded, looking to be as young as Reid and obviously terrified form being singled out by Hotch.   
“Reid would’ve made the connection,” Morgan said. “He’s read just about every book in existence.”  
Rossi’s eyes widened. “Garcia, what did you say again about Sleeping Beauty? Something about true love?”  
“Yah. The princess pricked her finger on a spinning wheel, sending her into a hundred-year sleep, until Prince Charming came and woke her up with a kiss of true love. Why?”  
“We’re ready to give the profile,” Hotch grumbled.   
“You mean-” Morgan groaned. “Great. The UnSub’s in love with Reid.”  
* * * * * * * * * *  
It took a long time for Reid to finally gain consciousness. As soon as he did, though, he knew something was wrong. His mind was fuzzy, sluggishly trying to keep up. His brain was usually miles ahead of the rest of him, which meant one (painfully familiar) thing. Drugs. But why had he been using again? He’d been clean for months, and he had already gotten past withdrawal. Slowly, his memories returned. He hadn’t shot up at all- he had returned to his home and been injected with something. At first, Reid was relieved. But then he realized what it meant. He’d been abducted by the Unsub. Again.  
“Wakey, wakey, Spencer,” a male voice sliced through the haze and snapped him fully awake. Reid opened his eyes and immediately began assessing the situation. He was in a dimly lit room. It was small, with only the bed he was laying on and a bucket in the corner. The air smelled mildly musty, like a basement or cellar. There was something cold around his ankle, and when he glanced at it, he silently groaned. It was encased in a manacle, which was attached to the wall by a chain. It was a rather long chain, but not nearly long enough to reach the wooden door on the opposite side of the room. He tried not to scream with frustration at the situation. Why did it always end up being him? He remembered making the comment during an older case that he seemed to attract all the weirdoes. This further proved his point. At least he was being protected from the slightly chilly air by a blanket.   
Next, Reid reluctantly raised his line of vision to the speaker. He was rather large, with muscles bulging under his shirt and broad shoulders. His hair was a dirty blonde, but with a few streaks of black. Reid came to the conclusion that he had dyed his hair before entering the BAU as a way to stop from being recognized. Dammit. Such a simple thing as temporary hair dye could cause a huge setback in his team finding him. The man seemed to realize what Reid was thinking, for his gray eyes illuminated.   
“Who-” Reid cleared his throat and tried again. “Who are you?”  
“My name is Evan,” the man replied. “As you’ve probably already guessed, I’m the one who’s been leaving you all those notes. Next question?”  
Reid was surprised at the man’s matter-of-fact tone and openness to answer questions, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to take advantage of it.  
“Why did you do all this?” Evan smiled with his mouth, but his eyes remained the same. Cold. Harsh. Frightening. “Hmm. That’s a good question, actually. I guess I was bored. And you’re way too fun to play with.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“Next question.” Evan’s voice turned frosty, and Reid could practically feel the room’s temperature drop.  
“What are you going to do to me?”  
“Are you that eager to get started?” Evan sounded amused, and just like that, he reverted to his previous disposition. “Well, here’s how it’ll work. We both know that your team will be looking for. They already are. And, eventually, they’ll find you. Agreed?” Reid frowned, but nodded. “The only thing you can change is what happens while you’re here. If you do as I say, if you don’t refuse or deny me, then there’s nothing to worry about. But if you don’t cooperate, you won’t be the only one getting punished. I’ll simply pop out and find someone- a child, perhaps- to bring back. Then, you’ll get to watch me do everything I would’ve done to you to them, before I kill them and repeat everything on you.” Evan’s voice didn’t change throughout his entire speech, which was almost as unnerving as what he was saying. Reid felt a shudder work its way down his spine. “Am I clear?”  
Reid nodded. He didn’t even have to think about it. No matter what Evan had planned for him, he wouldn’t let anyone else be dragged into this. He wouldn’t watch as Evan tortured and killed a child because of something Reid had done. It was as simple as that.  
“Good. Then I suppose we can get started.” Evan’s hand shot out and grabbed a fistful of Reid’s hair, using that to drag him off the bed. Reid yelped at the sudden pain in his scalp, but he didn’t do anything to stop it. He didn’t have a choice. Then Evan started, smashing his entire body with fists and feet. He curled into the fetal position, trying to protect his stomach from the worst of the blows, whimpering in pain. A booted foot caught him in the ribs and he cried at the sound of a snap. A hand smashed into his jaw. He barely registered the separate blows, only feeling his entire body bathed in intense pain. He was back in high school, a tiny twelve-year-old being ganged up on by the big, buff football players.   
Reid was so caught up in the past that it took him a few seconds to realize that Evan had stopped. He was now breathing heavily from the effort, staring at Reid with a sort of hunger in his eyes, one that made Reid wish he would return to beating him.  
“You’re beautiful when you’re in pain,” he panted. “Just like when you were with Tobias Hankel.” Suddenly, Evan’s lips crashed against his own. Reid was so surprised that he opened his mouth to scream, only for Evan’s tongue to slither into his mouth. The man’s hands were running through his hair rough enough to bruise his scalp. It was a disgusting feeling, and all Reid wanted to do was kick Evan in the groin and run. Sadly, though, that was impossible. Even if the manacle wasn’t there, it would result in someone else being hurt. So he let Evan unbutton his vest and shirt, yanking the clothing off. Then Evan’s mouth was out of his, moving up and down Reid’s bare chest, biting his flesh hard enough to break skin. Reid shut his eyes tight, struggling to hold back sobs of pain and fear. There was a voice in the back of his head pleading for it to all be over, for him to just let it happen to someone else. It repeated a mantra over and over: I don’t want to get raped.  
Reid’s skin seemed hypersensitive as Evan tugged off his pants and boxers, leaving him completely naked. Evan undressed quickly as well, tossing his clothes in all directions. Then Reid shut his eyes again, not wanting to think about what was about to happen. But no matter how much he squeezed his eyes shut, he couldn’t block out the next part. He could feel Evan’s fingers inside of him and he finally let loose a scream. It was a type of pain he had never felt before. There was no pleasure to it- no love- just searing agony from a brutality so severe, Reid could feel himself being torn. Then Evan’s hand was gone and he gasped for air- until the sensation returned, only ten times worse than before. He writhed in agony, trying to get out of Evan’s grip as the man thrust in and out and in and out-and-in-and-in-andoutandinandoutand-  
Everything blurred together. He could no longer think straight. The pain was so thick, so suffocating, that he could barely breathe. His wails of misery were drowned out by Evan’s cries of pleasure. Then he came inside of him with a shout and Reid let out a sob. He couldn’t keep it in any more. Evan drew out and released Reid from his bruising grip.  
“You were incredible,” Evan breathed into his ear. “I’ll bring you down some food.” He ended his sentence by nibbling on Reid’s earlobe, then biting down, eliciting one final yelp form the young doctor. Then he kissed Reid one last time, drawing it out, before gathering all the clothes (Reid was too in-shock to register that Evan took his clothes as well). He left Reid in the small room, curled up on the floor. He was sobbing uncontrollably into his arms, his stomach churning with shame and humiliation, his skin crawling from Evan’s touch, every inch of his aching from being brutally beaten and violated. Every touch kept repeating itself in Reid’s head, and he cursed having an eidetic memory. He couldn’t control his nausea anymore. Reid dragged himself across the floor and to the bucket in the corner, which he then vomited into, emptying his stomach’s contents into the plastic bucket. He kept heaving, even once there was nothing less to throw up, until his throat burned and his lungs ached. Then he finally curled back in on himself, letting sobs wrack his entire body. Tears streamed down his face. And he didn’t try to stop them. He simply laid there, crying, trying to erase the memories of what had just happened from his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um... I hope that wasn't too bad. I tried to avoid getting TOO detailed. Please comment! I LOVE feedback!  
> Thanks for reading, and have a nice day! :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reid tries to pull himself back together and fails. He ends up falling asleep, during which he is plagued with nightmares, only to wake up and have the nightmare continue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last of my prewritten chapters. The update periods will be a bit longer, but hopefully I'll have the next chapter up by Thursday. If not, feel free to pester me until I post it. Contains more violence and rape, as well as not-real gun violence and death.  
> There's mild canon divergence in here- I'm pretending that Lila and Reid never kissed.  
> Like always, I love getting feedback on my writing! The more I get, the faster I write!  
> Enjoy!

It took close to an hour for Reid to finally stop crying.  
Of course, it was understandable. Reid-young, innocent Reid- had just been kidnapped, beaten, and raped all in one day. His first kiss, his first time, both had been stolen from him. He had never admitted to the team that he had never kissed anyone before, much less go to bed with them (although they probably had their suspicions). Now, he had just been threatened, coerced, into doing both. With his stalker. With a psychopath. That thought hurt him even more than the physical pain.  
When Reid’s eyes finally ran dry, and no more tears would fall, he wiped his nose with the back of his hand and sat up. His clothes were nowhere to be found- Evan must’ve taken them- but there was a small bundle of what looked like pants next to a tray of food. Evan had come in without Reid even noticing, but it was probably better that way. He didn’t know if he’d be able to face his violator without throwing up.  
Wanting to recover at least a portion of his dignity, Reid unfolded the bundle next to the tray. It was a pair of gray sweatpants, most likely cotton based off of the texture. There was a zipper down the side of one of the legs, so that he could put them on, even with the manacle secured around his sore, aggravated ankle. He pulled them on, almost throwing up as his eyes landed on the blood running out of his asshole and down his thighs. Although he would’ve preferred a shirt as well, pants were better than nothing. Next, he turned to the tray and examined its contents. A paper cup of water, a slice of bread, and a few pills. There was also a note, larger than the previous ones. ‘Make sure to take all the vitamins. I know it’s not much, but if you want more, you’ll have to earn it.’ Reid moaned. Even though he felt sick, he needed to keep up his strength. A piece of bread and some vitamins weren’t enough. Better than nothing. Reid ate the bread in three bites and downed the vitamins with water. When he finished the last drop of the water, he dragged himself across the floor and back on top of the old mattress, in too much pain to do much else. All he wanted to do was fall asleep and wake up back in his own bed to find it was all one horrible nightmare, but he knew that would never happen. This was real.  
Reid sighed and tried to shove the memories of his ordeal into the back of his mind, instead focusing on happier things. Morgan. JJ. Prentiss. Garcia. Hotch. Rossi. Did they realize he was missing yet? Were they looking for him? Or were they still stuck, just like before, with not enough clues to build a profile? Hopefully, they would find the petal he had left for them, and piece it together. Sleeping beauty. Ironic, really, he thought bitterly. His team would probably think of the Disney version- a lovely princess, Prince Charming, true love- when, in reality, this was closer to the original version- Aurora being raped by the king.  
He desperately wished they would find him before the next time Evan walked through the door, but he knew it wasn’t realistic. Still, he sent out a silent plea. Please find me, guys. Before he strikes again.  
* * * * * * * * * *  
It was dark, and Reid’s head was full of the sickening smell of burning fish guts. His whole body ached, but the worst of it was centered around his foot. He shifted, and found himself tied to a chair.  
He was back with Tobias.  
That was when he heard the click, and jumped at the sight of Raphael looming over him, a gun pointed at his forehead.  
“Choose one to die,” he commanded.  
Reid’s head was spinning. He was still disoriented from the Dilaudid, and from dying and being brought back to life. “I won’t,” he replied, his voice wavering slightly from lack of liquids. He couldn’t let any of his team die.  
“Then all of you will die.” Suddenly, Reid could see Morgan, Hotch, JJ, Prentiss, Rossi, and Garcia, all tied to chairs around him.  
“I choose myself!” he cried. “Raphael! Kill me!” But it was too late. He had already lifted the gun. Six shots. Six bullets. Six friends slumping over in their chair, a bullet wound in the middle of their forehead. Six pairs of eyes fading as the life left their bodies. Reid sobbed with each shot, not wanting to watch, yet unable to turn away. Then the gun pointed back at him. With a deafening bang-  
Reid shot up in bed, drenched with sweat.  
“Nightmare?” a deep voice asked, and Reid spun towards the speaker, his heart still racing from what he had just witnessed. When he identified who it was, his terror only grew. It was his captor, Eva, sitting calmly on the foot of the crappy mattress. “Based on what you were shouting, I’ll assume it was about Tobias Hankel.”  
“What do you want?” Reid demanded, not wanting to admit that Evan was right. “Stop with the act. Have you come to rape me again?” He didn’t know where the defiance came from, only that it made him feel stronger than he had in ages.  
Evan grinned maniacally, his eyes full of a light that Reid could only describe as bliss. “Ah. Yes. That was the most fun I’ve had in forever. But no. At least, not yet,” he added, sending a shiver of fear down Reid’s spine. Then he leaned in, his breath hot on Reid’s face, and placed a kiss on his lips. Reid flinched but didn’t pull away. He couldn’t, unless he wanted an innocent child to take his place. “You see, while you’re here, I figured I might have a little fun.” Evan lifted his hands so that Reid could see them, showing off a pair of large kitchen knives. Reid gulped and forced himself to look away from the weapons, his mind already conjuring up scenarios that he’d rather avoid.  
Before Reid could even blink, Evan had yanked him off the bed and slammed one of the knives all the way through Reid’s left hand, pinning him to the floor. Spencer screamed, and the edges of his vision momentarily darkened. Blood was already pouring from the wound, and he shut his eyes tightly. He let out a small whimper as the pain refused to go away. But Evan was already adding more to his existing agony, dragging the second knife up and down Reid’s left arm, twisting it and chuckling as Reid squirmed bit down on his lip hard enough to draw blood in order to stop himself from crying out. The pain in his hand was lessening, fading into the background, which concerned the young doctor, but there was nothing he could do about it. He only hoped that Evan wouldn’t cause him any fatal damage. (At the rate he was going, though, Reid wouldn’t be surprised if he bled to death).  
After a few more cuts, Evan seemed to grow bored by Reid’s lack of reaction. He picked up Reid’s right hand and, even though Reid was still closing his eyes, he figured out what was coming next as soon as the tip of the knife touched his fingernail. A split second later, he was gasping in pain. He opened up one eye and immediately closed it again at the sickening sight of Evan grinning triumphantly, holding his crudely-removed fingernail. Then the knife was at his next finger, slowly sliding under the nail and drawing a moan from Reid. Evan yoked upward and the nail was ripped off, just as brutally as the first. Reid let out a soft noise and tried to pull his hand away, but Evan was far stronger, even if Reid hadn’t already been weak from blood loss. He was forced to lie on the ground, panting from the hurt radiating from all over, as Evan slowly removed the other three nails.  
As soon as he ripped off the last nail, Evan stood up and stared down at Reid, surveying his handiwork. Reid glared back at him, which apparently wasn’t the correct response, because next thing he knew, Evan had stomped down on his right arm. Hard. There was a loud crack, followed by a shriek.  
“Perfect,” he purred. “Scream again for me, will you?” He stomped down once more, this time on Reid’s ribcage, eliciting another wail from him. “I want you so much,” he hissed, eyes full of flames. “And I’m going to have you, Dr. Reid.”  
He dropped to his knees and jerked the first knife out of Reid’s left hand, causing him to let out an inhuman screech. Then, much to Reid’s horror, he began kissing him fiercely, biting his lips until they were swollen, filling his mouth with a foreign tongue. Then he was caressing every inch of his skin with both his hands and his mouth, biting and pinching until he left behind bruises. Reid finally let the tears fall. Please, don’t. Not again. Don’t let this happen to me again. He directed his silent plea at ever deity that came to mind, but none of his prayers were answered. Evan was already tearing the sweatpants off of him and flipping his thin body over. Then he stripped himself and, just like the first time, lowered himself into Reid. It was a torture in itself, feeling like he was being torn in half as Evan rutted into him again and again, ripping at the still-recovering flesh. Reid begged and whimpered and screamed, but nothing he did would make it stop. All of his pleas were drowned out by Evan’s sounds of intense pleasure.  
“So close,” he finally growled, speeding up his motions. Then, he came with a noise that made Reid flinch, and ever so slowly drew himself out of Reid, who let out a desperate whine, wishing that Evan would just hurry it up before he started crying from the pain.  
“Wonderful,” he whispered, slamming his mouth one last time onto Reid’s before crawling off him. The sudden absence of his weight sent Reid gasping as his lungs could fully expand again. “I’ll go get you some water. Your throat must be dry from all that screaming.” Then, just like before, he gathered up all of his discarded clothes and slipped them on, before leaving the room. Reid stared out after him, trembling so badly he thought he was going to vomit. Then he was, crawling across the floor to heave up stomach acid into the bucket, each phantom hand brushing against his skin triggering a whole new wave of nausea. Once he finally stopped, he started screaming. Screaming from the unfairness of it all. Screaming from the pain. From the humiliation. From the way his nerves wouldn’t stop feeling like hands were all over him. From the wish it would all just end. That was how Evan found him- screeching like a banshee, tears streaming down his face, the entire room full of the stench of vomit. He sighed and grabbed the skinny agent, pinning him down to the floor so that he could redress him in the sweatpants. Reid was too weak to fight back, even when he forced into a sitting position and tilted water down his throat. But when Evan moved to brush a strand of hair out of Reid’s eyes, Spencer bit down. Hard. Evan emitted a shriek and backhanded him, before grasping his head and slamming it into the floor. Reid wailed in pain, but it ebbed away as his surroundings dimmed and he sunk into blissful unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Reid. He's really not having a good week, is he? I'm sorry about doing all this to him- just kidding, I'm not. Although I love Spencer and he's my favorite character, I enjoy picking on him as well.  
> Thanks for reading, and have a nice day!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team investigates a possible suspect, while Reid continues to suffer, miles away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's chapter 5, a day early! I'm surprised that I finished it so quickly. Hopefully I can keep posting at this pace! More violence in this chapter, and non-con elements, but no actual rape. I know I've been laying it on pretty quick, so I'm giving poor Reid a break so that Evan won't accidentally kill him!  
> A shout-out to everyone who left Kudos and/or a comment! I couldn't stop grinning when I saw that people were actually reading and enjoying this. I really, REALLY appreciate everything. You guys are the best!  
> Anyway, here's the next chapter. I gave a little glimpse into the team's investigation. Hope it doesn't disappoint!

“We have a suspect!” Hotch announced as he entered the bullpen. Immediately, four heads turned towards him.  
“Already?” The incredulity in Morgan’s voice masked the swell of hope. They might find Reid. Alive. Unharmed. The last one was a stretch, but he couldn’t help himself from dreaming.  
“His name is Isaac Nolton. He’s 32 years old, white, with dark hair. Isaac is a loner, with a large rented storage unit that could serve as a secondary location. Unmarried with no girlfriends or ex-wives, which could mean he’s homosexual. He works as a janitor at the Bureau, which would give him access to the bullpen, but he’s taken the week off. He was a suspect in a male stalking case, but was never charged based off lack of evidence. The unit is only half an hour or so from Reid’s apartment.”  
“Then what are we waiting for?” Prentiss said, obviously anxious to find Reid. They all were. The four profilers gathered up what they would need and quickly headed out, Hotch in the lead. They loaded into one black SUV, Morgan and Rossi pouting when Hotch and Prentiss made them sit in the back, and drove off, sirens wailing and driving at nerve-wracking speeds. Everyone was desperate to find Reid as soon as possible. But they were forced to slow down after narrowly missing a head-on collision with one car and almost hitting the curb another time, although reluctantly.  
Exactly 18 minutes later, the van pulled into the storage facility’s parking lot. Everyone got out and approached the check-in counter, where the owner was on a computer. When he heard the four agents coming, though, he looked up and immediately leapt to his feet.  
“I’m Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner, and these are agents Prentiss, Morgan, and Rossi. We’re looking for Mr. Isaac Nolton’s storage unit.”  
The man stared in shock as they all displayed their badges, but gave a quick nod and sat back down at his computer. “Gimme a sec,” he grunted. “Isaac Nolton, you said?” When Hotch nodded sharply, he typed something into the computer. “Here we go. Isaac Nolton, unit 94. Here’s the master key.” He handed the key to Hotch and let out a sigh. “Please don’t tell me he’s been usin’ his unit to hide drugs or somethin’.”  
“Not something, someone,” Prentiss corrected grimly. “We believe he may have abducted a federal agent.”  
“Oh, shit,” he groaned. “Is there anything I can do to help?”  
“We’ll tell you if we do,” Rossi assured him. The team set off, watching the door numbers as they walked, looking for 94. When they finally reached it, all four of them drew their guns and Morgan knocked on the garage door.  
“Isaac Nolton!” he yelled. “It’s the FBI! Open up!” When there was no response, he repeated himself. Still silence. Hotch nodded and inserted the master key. There was an audible click and he pressed the “up” button. The garage door rose noisily, revealing-  
Boxes.  
Lots of boxes.  
And no Reid.  
“Dammit!” Morgan yelled, and kicked the wall in anger. “Where the hell is he?” He gave another yell of frustration, no one attempting to calm him. And miles away, Reid screamed with him.  
* * * * * * * * * *  
A foot connected with Reid’s ribcage and he heard a sickening snap. Pain shot through his entire right side and he screamed again, mentally diagnosing himself with at least one broken rib. But he didn’t try to stop the onslaught. He had sworn to Evan that he wouldn’t. The same boot-covered foot stomped down on Reid’s nail-less hand, making the raw, bloody skin on his fingers slam into the cold cement floor. Then the knife was back, slicing into his bare chest. The cuts were shallow, so they barely bled, but they still stung like hell. Reid gritted his teeth to stop from cursing at Evan. But what came next was by far the worst. Reid slammed his eyelids down and sobbed as Evan rutted into him over and over, adding another layer of pain. He could barely tell his injuries apart anymore. Everything had become one big blur, to the point where he could barely tell one form of torture apart from another. It felt like he was just one big bruise. But he clenched his jaw and bore it. There was no other choice.  
When Evan finished, he stomped down on his arm. Reid no longer had breath to scream, so he simply gasped in agony, able to hear the sound of his bone breaking. Then Evan kneeled down next to him and wrapped his hands around Reid’s neck. He squeezed, and Reid clawed at his hands as his oxygen flow was cut off. He could hear his heartbeat slow, banging loudly in his ears, as slowly, ever so slowly, the world grew fuzzy, then dimmed. His body went weak. His eyelids drooped.  
Is this what it feels like to die? He wondered hazily. Then the last of the darkness enveloped him, and everything was calm.  
* * * * * * * * * *  
When Reid woke back up, it was to incredible pain. He let out a whimper and tried to sink back into the numbness of slumber, but a sharp slap to his face prevented that.  
“It’s time to wake up, Spencer,” a familiar voice said harshly. Reid struggled to remember where he had heard it before. “I’ve given you some time to rest, but now you have to wake up.” Suddenly, the memories came rushing back. His stalker. Being kidnapped. Beat up. Tortured. Raped. Repeatedly. He gasped and sat up, but two strong hands pushed him back down.  
Reid re-opened his eyes and looked around, confirming that he was still laying on the crappy mattress in the cellar, his ankle still chained to the wall. Then he glanced down at himself, and was surprised by what he saw. His broken arm was bandaged and in a sling. His two broken ribs were bound. His left hand, the one the knife had pierced, was wrapped in gauze. All of the fingers on his right hand were bandaged at the tips. The most severe of the cuts on his arm and chest were stitched up and butterfly-taped. He noticed with pride that Evan’s hand, the one he had bit, was bandaged as well.  
“I fixed you up a bit,” Evan pointed out, although it was obvious. “And I brought you water.” He leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on Reid’s lips before drawing away and picking up a paper cup. He brought the water up to Reid’s mouth and slowly poured it down his throat. It was humiliating to be given water like this by his captor, his rapist, but both of his hands were too damaged to hold a cup. The water felt good on his dry, overused throat. Once he was done drinking, Evan kissed him again.  
“I gave you water and medical care,” he whispered. “Now it’s time for you to give something in return.” Reid instantly recoiled, but there wasn’t much he could do to stop Evan from hauling him off the bed and dropping him on his knees. He reached down and slowly, tauntingly, unzipped the fly on his jeans. Reid gulped and cringed, knowing what Evan expected him to do. Evan raping him was one thing, but having to actively participate, that was a whole other thing. Still, all he could do was force down his queasiness and tug down the man’s boxers, freeing his erect dick. Then Evan grabbed him by his hair and yanked his head forward, slamming his cock into Reid’s mouth. He did his best not to gag as he ran his tongue up and down Evan’s length. He had never done anything like this before, but apparently he was doing something right, because Evan let out a groan and gripped his hair tighter. Reid squeaked in pain but continued.  
Suddenly, Evan let out a cry and Reid’s mouth was full of warm, wet cum. “Swallow,” Evan ordered breathlessly, pulling himself out, his eyes closed, savoring every feeling. But as soon as it began sliding down the agent’s throat, it hit his gag reflex and he coughed. His lungs burned as he continued to gag, spitting up all of the semen, as well as a few flecks of blood. He bent over and coughed until his throat stung. Every injury throbbed. “NO!” Evan shrieked. “What did you DO?” He slapped Reid across the face, hard, and Reid gasped in pain. “I thought we had a promise,” he hissed, his voice full of venom. “You were supposed to do exactly as I said. First you bite me, then you disobey me? Someone else will pay for your mistakes.”  
“I’m sorry!” Reid cried as Evan retreated. “Please! I’m sorry! Don’t hurt anyone else! Please! Hurt me instead!” But his pleas were as useless as they would’ve been on a deaf man. Reid was left alone, crying and begging to an empty room, knowing that he had just brought suffering upon another person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! I hope that isn't too big of a cliffhanger. The next chapter should be up soon, though, so don't worry too much. Also, I want to give a big thanks to Silverwrym for pointing out a mistake I made in an earlier chapter. I went back and fixed it, though.  
> Again, feedback is incredible! Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a nice day!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Evan returns with a new prisoner in tow, just like he promised, Reid makes a painful decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Another chapter already! I don't really know how I feel about this chapter. I'm always kinda nervous about introducing OCs, especially under such awful circumstances. Anyway, here it is. Contains violence and rape, like usual. But I promise we're almost done with the non-con stuff! Pinky swear! It'll get better from here!... kind of.  
> Enjoy!

Reid was lightheaded from hyperventilating for so long. Still, he couldn’t stop. His mind kept running through the worst scenarios possible. He needed to find a way out of this mess. He even tried picking the lock on his manacle with the zipper on his sweatpants. But everything was to no avail. He was trapped in there, trapped with his fears and speculations.  
After over an hour, Reid was jerked out of his thoughts by the sound of the door opening. He glanced up, seeing Evan for a split second before someone was thrown into the small space with him. The door slammed shut with a sinister thud. That was when Reid heard a soft whimpering sound coming from who had been tossed in with him. He blinked, and gasped when he finally registered what had just happened. He crawled towards the girl.  
“Hello?” he said quietly, sitting down next to her. Her long, black hair was splayed around her head, and her wrists and ankles were tied. She was blindfolded and gagged as well, which was probably why she wasn’t screaming in terror. “Hello?” he repeated. “I’m going to take off the blindfold and gag, okay?” He used a calming voice, unsure what the proper etiquette was for a situation like this. There was a frantic nod from the girl and Reid carefully slid both strips of cloth off her face. As soon as they were removed, she gasped and let out a sob. Her eyes flew open and she stared at Reid.  
“Who- who are you?” she asked shakily. Reid could see her surprise at seeing him, and he guessed she had caught a glimpse of her attacker, and could see that they were two different people.  
“My name is Spencer Reid.”  
She inhaled sharply. “You’re that FBI Agent! The one that was kidnapped! You were on the news!” Reid nodded and tried to give her a reassuring smile, but it probably looked a lot more like a grimace. “I’m Jamie, Jamie Wilcox,” she said softly. Then her eyes widened, and Reid was guessing she had just seen the full extent of his injuries. “What happened to you?”  
Instead of answering, Reid took a deep breath. He probably looked like hell. After all, that’s what he’d been going through ever since he woke up in this cursed place. “I’m going to untie you, okay?” She nodded, and Reid set to work untying the rope. It took longer than it should have, with his hands trembling the entire time. The thought of Evan torturing and raping someone as young and innocent as her brought the taste of bile to his mouth.  
“Thank you,” she whispered. “But really- what happened? Did he-” she swallowed. “Did he do all that to you?”  
Reid made direct eye contact before answering, “Jamie, I swear to you, I will do everything I can to make sure he doesn’t hurt you. But I don’t know how much I can do. He wants to punish me through you. So, I will say this once and only once. If you get an opportunity to leave, take it. Don’t wait up,” he said, gesturing at the chain that made sure he couldn’t run. “As soon as you’re safe, call 911. Do you understand?”  
“Leave you behind?” she repeated quietly, surveying his assortment of injuries. “But-”  
“No buts,” Reid said firmly. “I’ll be fine. I’m an FBI agent. I’ve been taught how to deal with these situations. You haven’t.”  
Jamie still looked reluctant, distressed, but she agreed. “Fine.”  
Reid released the breath he had been holding. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this.”  
“It’s not your fault.”  
“Actually, it is. I made a promise to the man who’s holding us and I broke it. This is the consequence.”  
Jamie stayed silent. Reid looked at her and was surprised to see how well she was hiding her terror. ‘Everyone reacts differently,’ he thought to himself. ‘She’s probably trying to act brave since I’m in the force.’ They talked quietly for a little while longer. Reid told himself it was to comfort her, but it was mostly for his own comfort. If his plan worked, he would be the one suffering when Evan returned. Almost as if by magic, as soon as his thoughts turned back to Evan, he heard footsteps. It was the first time he was conscious while Evan returned, and he could now hear how thin the door was, how easy it was to hear when Evan was coming down the stairs.  
“I need you to think of a happy memory,” Reid quickly whispered to Jamie. “Focus on it. Don’t let your mind wander. I’ll deal with the rest.” Jamie nodded, the fear returning to her eyes before they shut. Reid could see her lips twitching, like she was inaudibly reassuring herself. Then the door swung open and Evan was there, his eyes alight with insanity.  
“I hope that was enough time for proper introductions,” he said in a sing-song voice. Reid mentally cursed. Evan was beginning to lose his remaining sanity. The contents of Spencer’s stomach churned, but he ignored it. He pushed himself to his feet, amazed at how much energy it took to complete such a simple action, and began talking.  
“Evan, do you know what my job is?” Reid asked, letting all his emotions pour into his voice.  
“Of course I do!” Evan exclaimed, sounding highly offended. “You’re a profiler.”  
“Exactly. I know how to read people. Just like I’ve read you. You don’t want to hurt Jamie. You don’t want to hurt a girl, much less a child. All you want is to see me in pain. You get off on it. I’ve been wracking my brain for a reason why, and I think I know now. When we were in high school, and the football team tied me to that goalpost, you were the one who got me down. You liked seeing how vulnerable I was- didn't you, Evan Salinski?” Evan’s eyes widened in surprise, but Reid wasn’t done. “So go ahead. Kill Jamie. But that wouldn’t accomplish anything, would it? If I’m the one you want to hurt?”  
Evan grinned, and Reid was horrifyingly reminded of a predator cornering his prey. “Do you remember the last note in that envelope?”  
Slowly, Reid nodded. “I can make you beg for me,” he recited.  
Then Evan was approaching him slowly. In the blink of an eye, he was gripping Reid so tightly he would leave bruises. “I told you that I could. And now, here you are, begging me to hurt you. I’ll be happy to oblige.” He laughed softly, before smashing his lips into Reid’s.  
Evan was kissing him fiercely, violently, chewing on Reid’s bottom lip, digging his fingernails into Reid’s unprotected sides. Reid let him. He simply stood there as Evan molested him, as he pinned him down to the floor and took him as roughly as possible, eliciting screams of pain from him. He didn’t prepare Reid at all, didn’t give him any time to adjust. He simply thrust in over and over again, and Reid vaguely wondered if his insides would ever heal from so many repeated times of such rough treatment. The whole time, he scratched at Reid’s bare back, until blood was pooling in the cuts. Every time Reid wanted to struggle or throw him off, he forced himself to glance at Jamie, who had drawn her legs into her chest, hands clamped to her ears and eyes squeezed shut. He was doing this to stop the same thing from being inflicted upon her.  
Then, finally, it was over. Evan finished off and wiped up some of his semen with his discarded t-shirt. He licked the blood from Reid’s bitten lips and Reid’s toes curled, his face scrunched up. He didn’t open his eyes again until he heard the door close and lock. Reid sighed, pain radiating from his lower back. He grabbed his sweatpants that Evan had hastily removed and slid his free leg into one of the pant legs, zipping the other one in to avoid the manacle. The red stain on the pants (and it wasn’t from the beatings) had been growing steadily larger, and now there was fresh blood to add to it. He was still in pain, but he crawled over to Jamie, whimpering slightly the whole trip, and gently grabbed her shoulder.  
“Jamie,” he said loudly. “Jamie, it’s okay, He’s gone now.” He shook her slightly, and she tensed and yelped, before seeing who it was when her eyes opened.  
“Oh God,” she breathed, and Reid realized with dread that she could see the blood in the crotch of his pants. “Oh, God, he- he… raped you, didn’t he?” Reid didn’t say anything, but just hearing the word triggered a round of vomiting. He barely made it to the waste bucket in time before he was retching up his stomach acid, having nothing else in his stomach to expel. And that was answer enough. Once the puking subsided, he told her it was fine, that there was nothing she could’ve done.  
“Are you okay?” she asked in a small, innocent voice that matched her young age.  
Reid didn’t know how to respond to a question like that, especially since he definitely wasn’t. But Jamie already looked guilty enough, so he said, “I will be, Jamie. I will be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. I'm starting to feel kind of bad about how much I'm putting Reid through. Oh, well. It's gonna get better soon. I promise. Please leave some feedback- it makes me really happy to see you guys reading and liking this!  
> Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a nice day!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team finally locates Reid's captor, but it isn't even close to over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I think I know what I'm going to do. This story is going to stay platonic, but focus on Reid's relationship with Hotch and Morgan, and probably JJ as well, as Reid struggles to recover from the events of these past few chapters. It'll be a combination of options 1&3, as well as incorporating something Village_Mystic suggested. Poor Prentiss and Rossi will just have to step aside for the rest of this. But I'll write a Hotch/Reid thing in this universe, just publish it separately, for all of you Hotch/Reid shippers. I hope that works!  
> As usual, I really appreciate all the feedback! This chapter contains blood, gun violence, and character death. Just a heads-up. It's a bit shorter than usual (at least, it seemed like it was), but a lot happens. Next chapter should be up soon.  
> Enjoy!

“Evan Salinski!” Morgan yelled, knocking for the third time. “FBI, open up!”  
They had been searching for two days after clearing Isaac Nolton. On the third day, someone came up on the background check of Bureau employees that Garcia had been running. A janitor who quit the day Reid found the notes. He had covered his tracks well- hiding in the shadows of Isaac, making him look more suspicious than himself. But the further back they went, the more things came together. Evan had moved to Las Vegas as a senior, and graduated the same year Reid did. Morgan guessed he might have had something to do with the goalpost incident, but he kept that particular theory to himself, only suggesting he might have been a part of the intense bullying inflicted upon Spencer as a child. Evan had stayed in Las Vegas while Reid was at college, but two years ago, he moved to DC and worked part-time in a coffee shop while working on finishing college. A year later, the team guessed he had seen Reid again and had been reminded of how he felt towards the young man, because he suddenly quit everything and got a job as a janitor at the Bureau.  
More investigation revealed he bought a house in the DC suburbs with an underground cellar. He fit the profile to a “T”- neighbors and witnesses even reported him being physically, sexually, and verbally abusive to two boyfriends back in Vegas, but he’d never been arrested. Both men denied Evan’s violence towards them. They even found security footage from a mall with Evan purchasing a can of temporary spray-on black hair dye.  
When no one answered Morgan, Hotch gave the affirmative and Morgan kicked down the front door. The door fell with a loud thud, revealing a tiny kitchen and living room. There was a half-eaten bowl of soup on the couch and half a loaf of bread on the counter, but no Evan and no Spencer. The four agents let out a collective sigh and split into two groups to try and find the cellar quicker. As soon as Hotch and Morgan turned down the hallway, they found a locked door. Morgan kicked it down (Reid would’ve said he was showing off, kicking down so many doors in one day) and the two men turned on their flashlights to see in the dark stairwell. Once they reached the bottom, they came upon another door. This one, though, was unlocked. With a nod from Hotch, Morgan flung it open and-  
It was a scene out of a nightmare.  
The first thing they saw was the girl, 10 or 11 years old, by the looks of her. Her wrists and ankles were tied and she was trying to tell them something, but her words were muffled by the cloth in her mouth. She was at the feet of a man- Evan Salinski, based off of his tall, broad frame and blond hair. His gray eyes were sparkling with complete insanity, but that wasn’t the terrifying part. The worst thing was the knife he was holding to a certain someone’s neck.  
“Reid!” Morgan cried, and Hotch stiffened beside him. Reid was shirtless, which exposed his multitude of bruises, cuts, and bloody bandages that covered not just his chest, but his arm and hands as well. His hair was even messier than usual which was saying something, and it was matted with blood. The gray sweatpants he was wearing were stained with red. His ankle was cuffed and chained to the wall. But he was alive. Thank God he was alive.  
“Put the guns down, or your beloved Doctor Reid dies!” Evan warned them.  
“Don’t!” Reid croaked, his voice clearly too hoarse to talk any louder. “Morgan! Hotch! Shoot him! He won’t-” The rest of his sentence was cut off by Evan smashing the knife hilt into his cheek and bringing it back to its original position. Reid cringed, but didn’t make a noise.  
“Evan we just want to talk,” Hotch tried. “Let Reid go and-”  
“Put the guns DOWN!” Evan demanded, seething. Reid shook his head frantically at his teammates, but they didn’t want to anger Evan even more. That would lead to him lashing out again and hurting Reid even more than he already had. Both men slowly placed their guns on the ground and stood back up.  
“At least release the girl,” Morgan suggested. “She’s useless to you.”  
“No, she isn’t. She’s here to keep your little friend from trying something stupid.”  
“Evan,” Reid spoke up. His voice was somehow louder, stronger, calmer. “There’s nothing you can do now. Just let Jamie go, and I’ll cooperate with you.”  
“Lies,” Evan hissed. “Now, shut up or I’ll slit your throat!” Reid obediently shut his mouth. Then he turned back to Hotch and Morgan and jerked his head slightly down, his eyebrows raising and lowering. He was trying to tell them something. Morgan was too busy watching the knife at Reid’s neck to see it, but Hotch could see movement in his peripheral vision. Jamie was slowly inching towards them. Towards the dropped guns. They had thought this through. All he needed to do was keep Evan’s attention on them.  
“Do you have any demands?” Hotch asked. He could feel Morgan’s incredulous stare, but he must’ve seen Jamie as well, because he gave the smallest of nods.  
“Demands?” Evan repeated.  
“Money? Transportation? You have three federal agents and a minor hostage right now. The FBI will give you just about anything at this point.”  
Evan frowned. “Are you really offering me money and transportation?” He paused, tilting his head, as if he was considering it. “I’ll-”  
He was interrupted by Reid jerking his legs up. There was a loud bang, and Evan howled, letting go of Reid to grab his newly-shot foot. He tried to swing the knife at him, but Reid snatched it from him and plunged it into his neck.  
“Gunshots fired!” Rossi’s voice drifted through Hotch and Morgan’s walky-talkies. “Is everyone okay?”  
“We got Reid,” Hotch said breathlessly. “Evan is dead. We need an ambulance, now.”  
“You got Reid?” Prentiss asked.  
“Yah,” Morgan confirmed. No one moved. Jamie still gripped the gun, her hands trembling and face pale as she stared at Evan’s body. Morgan and Hotch were in shock. But Reid was panting, staring down at the knife sticking out of his captor’s neck. With a shaking, bandaged hand, he felt for Evan’s pulse beneath the warm blood continuing to pour out.  
“He’s dead,” Reid whispered. “He’s dead.”  
The spell was broken. Hotch drew his own knife and cut the ropes bounding Jamie’s wrists and ankles, then took his gun back from her and let her grip his arm tightly, shivering. Morgan approached Reid and steered him away from the body, before taking a look at the manacle.  
“Do you know where the key is?” Morgan asked him softly. When Reid shook his head, still staring at Evan, he fished around in his pocket for a pin and spent the next few minutes picking the lock, before there was a satisfying click. He eased the cuff off Reid’s ankle, cringing at the red, raw skin. “We need to get you outside to wait for the ambulance.” When Reid didn’t move, he sighed and put an arm under his knees and the other around his shoulder, picking him up bridal-style. He was even lighter than Morgan expected, and he internally winced. Hotch helped Jamie to her feet and the four of them slowly made their way up the steps and back into the bright light of the kitchen. Prentiss gasped when she saw them and Rossi’s brow creased. Prentiss leapt forward to give Reid a hug, but was interrupted by sirens wailing outside.  
The next few minutes were a blur. Morgan carried Spencer out to the waiting nurses and they laid him on a gurney. Jamie got in the ambulance as well, still in shock. Prentiss joined the two of them, hoping a female presence would be comforting to Jamie. She would’ve also gone to comfort Reid, but he passed out as soon as they loaded him in. She made sure to tell the EMTs not to give him any narcotics, and then they were speeding away, leaving three agents behind, staring after the car even when they could no longer see it. Then they waited for the second ambulance to arrive and pick up the cold, pale body of the man responsible for all of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Reid's suffering is finally over... or is it? Cue even more whump- but mostly emotional, now. I have quite a bit more planned for this, with LOTS of angst and some PTSD.  
> I hope this chapter was okay! I'm not sure how it turned out, or if I liked the chapter ending. Oh, well. At least it's up.  
> Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a nice day! :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team waits at the hospital for news on Reid and Jamie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!  
> Sorry for the 5-ish day wait- I was away all weekend, and then I came across a bit of writer's block. This chapter is probably highly inaccurate in the medical area, and that trend will continue for the rest of the story. I've never had to go to the hospital, nor am I a nurse, so I have very little medical knowledge.  
> Contains mentions of rape and assault. A pretty mild chapter, actually. More of a transition. I'm not super happy with how it turned out, but I'm probably just being way too much of a perfectionist. :)  
> Anyway, enjoy!

The entire team (minus Reid, of course) was gathered in the Emergency Room waiting area. It was evening, around dinnertime, but none of them were eating. They were all too worried about what news the nurse’s would bring them on Reid and Jamie’s conditions. The tension was almost suffocating, and no one dared to speak. At least, until a dark-haired nurse approached them, clipboard in hand.  
“Family of Jamison Wilcox?” she asked, peering at them through a pair of horn-rimmed glasses.  
“I’m Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner with the FBI,” Hotch announced, displaying his badge. “She’s a victim in a case we’re working. Can you at least tell me how she is?”  
The nurse studied his badge for a second before glancing back down at her clipboard. She sighed and tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “Miss. Wilcox is doing fairly well physically. She’s dehydrated, with a few cuts and bruises, as well as rope burns on her wrists and ankles, but nothing that won’t heal quickly. Emotionally, it’s a whole other story. She’s in shock. She managed to get a hold of her dad, who had been at work. He’s on his way now.”  
Hotch gave a curt nod. It was completely understandable for her to be in shock. She’d been abducted by a psychotic man, whom she then had to shoot. “What about Evan Salinski?” When she hesitated, he added, “He abducted and assaulted both Jamison and a Federal Agent.”  
“Dead. There was nothing we could do.” Hotch couldn’t help but sigh in relief. He knew it was wrong to be glad the man was dead, but he, as well as the rest of the team, would sleep better at night knowing Evan could never hurt Reid again. “I’m guessing you also want to know about Mr. Spencer Reid.”  
“Dr. Spencer Reid,” Hotch offhandedly corrected. At the mention of Spencer, he could sense the other occupants of the room perk up behind him. “And yes.”  
The nurse closed her eyes for a second. When she re-opened them, she made direct eye contact with each of them before looking back at her clipboard. “Since you’re all feds, I’ll be frank with you. He’s been through a lot. Broken finger, fractured hand, knife wound going all the way through his palm, five crudely removed fingernails, and a broken arm. He also had two bruised ribs and lacerations covering his abdomen and left arm. He suffered from severe bruising just about everywhere. There was a hairline fracture on his jaw, and some internal bleeding. A few of the larger cuts had been sewn up, but two of them were infected and had to be re-stitched. Luckily, the infection was minor. He was also dehydrated and malnourished.” As she continued to list injuries, the tension grew. By the time she finished, Garcia was crying silently and JJ’s eyes were red. “Then there’s another matter.” Hotch winced. He knew what she was going to say. He’d been hoping, praying, that his suspicions were wrong, but he was a profiler, and it was his job to be right. “Forgive my bluntness, but I know that you feds don’t like it when people beat around the bush.” She cleared her throat. “Dr. Reid has injuries that coincide with repeated sexual assault. We’ve fixed the majority of the physical damage, but there’s no telling how psychologically affected he is until the sedatives wear off.”  
The air turned frigid as soon as the phrase “repeated sexual assault” came out of her mouth. JJ had started to cry, and Garcia’s cheeks were already soaked with tears. Rossi was paler than most of the corpses they dealt with. Prentiss was obviously struggling not to hit something, and Morgan had already given into that impulse. Hotch wanted to strangle Evan with his bare hands, but since the man was already dead, he settled on clenching his fists until his fingernails broke skin.  
“When exactly will he wake up?” Prentiss finally spoke up, her voice barely controlled.  
“He’ll wake up soon, but he will be in and out for a while. His body is worn out. He needs to rest.”  
“Would it be alright if Agent Prentiss and I talked to Jamie?” JJ asked quietly, trying to at least sound calm.  
“I guess. Just don’t stress her out,” she warned. “If you do, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”  
“Understood,” JJ replied with a nod. With approval from Hotch, the two female agents followed the nurse down the hall.  
* * * * * * * * * *  
JJ was nervous. It was bad enough to hear about Reid’s multitude of injuries, but interviewing someone who might have witnessed Reid receiving them? That would be even worse. ‘But not as bad as hearing Spencer talk about it’, she added. ‘And not nearly as bad as having to live through it.’  
Prentiss entered first and JJ followed closely behind. Jamie was sitting up in bed, knees drawn into her chest. There was an open book in front of her, but it was obvious she wasn’t reading. The two women entered cautiously and sat down in the two chairs, waiting for Jamie to acknowledge their presence. She stayed completely still, not acknowledging their presence.  
“I shot him,” Jamie finally whispered, the sudden sound causing JJ to flinch. “I shot someone. With a gun.” Her voice shook, and her eyes were panicking. JJ wanted to wrap Jamie up in a hug and never let go. The poor girl had just pulled the trigger on a human being. Even agents were affected the first time they shot someone, even after extensive physical and mental preparation.  
“You didn’t kill him,” JJ reassured her. “And it was completely in self-defense. You won’t be charged. You had no other choice.”  
“Is he alive?”  
“No,” Prentiss admitted. “But you weren’t the one to kill him. You shot him in the shin. Agent Dr. Reid was the one to kill him.”  
“Is Spencer okay?” she sat up straighter and glanced between the two of them. You didn’t need to be a profiler to see how worried about him she was.  
“He’s alive,” Prentiss sounded like she was trying to reassure herself as well. “They fixed him up.” She paused. “My name is Emily and this is JJ. Do you mind telling us what happened?”  
“Do you know Spencer?” Jamie asked quietly.  
“We’re both on his team,” JJ responded. “He’s like family to us.” It was true. The whole team- even Rossi, the newest- were a second family to each other.  
“He’s a good person,” she told them, then hesitated before talking again, her voice shaking the entire time. “I was walking home from school. It was an early release, and I knew dad was going to be working late. A guy walks up to me with a knife and tells me to come with him, or he’d stab me. I- I did, and he brought me into the house we’d been in front of. Then he tied me up and dumped me in the basement. Spencer was already there. He was hurt. A lot.” She took a deep breath, and both agents could tell that the only way she could tell all of them this was because it hadn’t sunk in yet. “Spencer untied me. I recognized him from the news. He said he’d do whatever it took to protect me. And he meant it. He even told me to leave him behind if I got the chance to escape.” Jamie swallowed. “The guy came back- Evan, I think- and Reid told me to cover my ears and focus on something else. But I could still-” she shut her eyes tightly and rested her forehead on her knees. The action muffled the rest of her words. “I could still hear Spencer screaming. Evan did things to him. Bad things. There was nothing I could do. I just sat there and- and-”  
“Jamie, take a deep breath,” JJ instructed her. “It’s not your fault. I promise. Both you and Spencer are okay.” The last part was a lie, but JJ wanted to relieve Jamie’s conscience as much as possible.  
Once Jamie’s breathing evened out again, she continued to tell her story. “He hurt him. And then he-he-he… he raped him.” Then she started to sob, face hidden by her knees. “God, I didn’t do anything! I should’ve done something!” JJ tried to comfort the hysterical girl, but it was of no use. She was crying loudly now, drawing in on herself even more. The nurse heard the commotion and asked them to leave, though it sounded more like an order, which they reluctantly obeyed. But as soon as they stepped out into the hallway, they found Hotch waiting for them, his eyebrows even more furrowed than usual. They knew what he was going to say seconds before he even spoke based purely on the turmoil in his eyes.  
“Reid woke up.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reid is finally rescued from Evan, and wakes up in the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait, I've been busy listening to the AMAZINGNESS THAT IS HAMILTON THE MUSICAL!!!!!!!!! If you haven't already heard it, I highly recommend you go over to Youtube and listen to the soundtrack. I swear, Lin Manuel-Miranda is a genius.  
> Anyway, this chapter contains memories of violence and vague descriptions of rape. The hurt/comfort starts up too, and there's some Reid-JJ friendship. A bit longer than usual, to make up for the time gap. As always, I'm so incredibly grateful and humbled by the response this has recieved. I'd never imagined more than a few comments and kudos, but you guys have long-since exceeded my expectations. Thank you so much! You all make me smile. :)

Everything passed in a sort of blur. It felt surreal, like a dream. Maybe that was why it was so easy for him to do what Evan said and tie Jamie up. Why he felt nothing but serenity as Evan held a knife to his neck and yelled at his team mates. The gunshot was earsplittingly loud, jolting him out of his dream-like state. Without even thinking, he wrenched the knife away from Evan and plunged it down. It wasn’t until the blood crept across the floor and reached him that he realized what he’d done. He stared in horror at the blade hilt sticking out of the man. What had he done? He felt for a pulse, but couldn’t find any beneath the blood-soaked neck. Evan was dead.  
Then Morgan was there, gently leading him away from the body lying in a steadily-growing puddle of blood. Morgan asked him if he knew where the key was for the manacle and Reid shook his head. He didn’t know if there even was a key. Derek somehow managed to pick the lock, and then he was lifting him up. Reid was too tired to protest, simply letting his eyelids drop. Everything hurt like hell, and his limbs felt too heavy to move. He was rested on a gurney and Reid only had time to register how soft it was before the last of his body gave out and he was snatched up by the tendrils of sleep.  
After a while (was it a while? Reid couldn’t tell how much time had passed) everything began to feel different. The pain, which had faded before, was rushing back. He groaned and tried to sink back into unconsciousness, but a sudden voice ruined his plans.  
“Pretty Boy?” It was Morgan, Reid decided sleepily. He was the only one who called him that. “Hey kid, it’s me, Morgan. You’re safe now. No need to worry.”  
Reid tried to open his eyes to look at Morgan, but they stubbornly remained shut. He took a second to observe his surroundings through his other senses. Cleaning product smell. Quiet beeping noise. He was in a hospital.  
“Can you hear us?” Garcia was the one speaking this time, her voice strained. He wanted to know why. Garcia was always so cheerful, so optimistic. What could make her sound so defeated? Why was he in a hospital in the first place? What did Morgan mean when he said he was safe now? And why did everything hurt so goddamn much?  
“Squeeze your hand if you can hear me,” Garcia ordered, placing her hand in his. He squeezed, and could feel her rings.  
Finally, Reid’s mouth unfroze, and he licked his lips. His mouth was incredibly dry. “What happened?” he whispered.  
“We found you and Jamie,” Rossi explained. “Don’t worry, she’s fine. Better than you, at least.”  
Reid’s head throbbed. It was like his brain was searching for memories that should’ve been there, but weren’t. He used all his strength to pry open his eyes, and immediately had to blink until they adjusted to the room’s bright fluorescent lights. He could see Morgan, Garcia, JJ, Hotch, Prentiss, and Rossi all standing around the room, worry carved into their faces and tears staining Garcia’s cheeks.  
There were hundreds of questions swirling around in his mind, and he picked one at random. “Why am I in a hospital?”  
“You- you don’t remember?” Garcia stammered. “The notes? Evan Salinski?”  
Suddenly, Reid was swept up in a whirlwind of memories. Finding the first note. Being kidnapped. Evan torturing him. Raping him. Twice. Jamie. Then a third time. Hotch and Morgan finding him. Evan threatening his team. Telling them to leave. Jamie shooting Evan in the leg. Reid stabbing him in the neck. Being carried to an ambulance by Morgan. A small part of him registered the steady beeping in the background growing faster and faster, but all he could focus on was Evan. Evan, beating him up, forcing him to do things, thrusting into him over and over and-over-and-over-andoverandoverandovera-  
He couldn’t breathe. Spencer frantically gasped for breath. He could practically see Evan standing in between Rossi and Morgan, grinning maniacally. His chest ached. He was having a heart attack. He yanked his hand away from whatever was trapping it and curled into himself, gasping in agony.  
Vaguely, he heard someone calling him. A female voice, which meant it wasn’t Evan. He wasn’t sure who it was, but he latched onto it anyway. “Spence, it’s JJ. I promise you that you’re safe. You’re in the hospital, okay? Just take deep breaths with me. Can you do that?” He could hear exaggerating breathing and matched her rhythm. His heartrate slowly returned to normal, and his lungs filled with oxygen. JJ was right. He wasn’t in that cellar. He was curled up in a hospital bed, gripping the bedsheets so tightly his knuckles were white. “Are you better now?” Reid nodded, trembling.  
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Garcia breathed. “I didn’t mean to-”  
“It’s fine,” Reid interrupted, harsher than necessary, but he was exhausted and hungry and in pain and his head was pounding underneath his skull. Garcia stopped talking and her face flashed with guilt. JJ placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder but Reid flinched. The contact reminded him too much of Evan, running his hands all over Reid’s naked body. JJ’s hand instantly pulled away.  
“So, what did the nurses say? How long do I have to stay here?”  
“Until you’re recovered enough to walk out of here on your own,” Hotch said. “You’re badly hurt.”  
Reid bit his lip. How much about his injuries did they know? Evan hadn’t been at all gentle when he fucked him (there was a feeling coating his inch that no amount of showers would ever wash away), and would’ve left behind injuries to prove it. He would’ve preferred if none of them ever found out, but based on the broken looks coming from JJ, Garcia, and Prentiss, and the empathetic glances from Morgan, he assumed they already knew.  
“One of us will have to collect an official statement,” Prentiss awkwardly brought up.  
“Not right now,” Reid begged. “I just want to sleep.”  
“Alright, kid,” Morgan sighed, and Reid closed his eyes with relief. It didn’t take much effort to tune out what his team was saying, and soon all their voices were just white noise. His whole body throbbed (most likely from lack of morphine), but he still managed to pass out, sinking into the soft bed and half-wishing he’d never have to wake up again.  
* * * * * * * * * *  
He was back in the barn, trying to ignore the pain coming from all over his body, especially his foot. A single bulb flickered menacingly, but besides that, it was pitch black. He preferred the darkness, though. It was better than Tobias. Or Charles. Or Raphael. Almost as if summoned, Charles appeared in front of him, face twisted into a scowl.  
“You’re weak,” he snarled, leaping at Reid, driving strong punches into Reid’s already bruised body, but he was too exhausted to scream or fight back. He sat in the chair limply, allowing Charles to beat him, until-  
It wasn’t Charles anymore. His surroundings morphed into a football field, on a chilly spring day, and he was shivering, no clothes protecting him from the slight cold. Richard had torn them from his body. Now, the entire football team was crowded around him, delivering blows to a feeble, scrawny 12-year old that they had tied, naked, to a goalpost. He begged them to stop, blood running down his bare, goose-bump-covered skin. But they just laughed. Everyone did.  
Now it was Evan hurting him, kicking and hitting him until his bones broke and his blood spilled on the cold, hard floor. Then Evan pinned him down and Reid screamed at the pain of the man inside him, thrusting deep down. He could feel his flesh stretching and tearing, and soon his body was full of warm blood and semen.  
“You’re a sinner,” Raphael growled from somewhere in the room, his voice making Reid shiver. “This is what you deserve. This is your punishment. Let this be a lesson unto you.”  
Reid woke screaming, thrashing against his restraints. He was being held down by something and he desperately tried to escape its grasp, lashing out with his limbs. Everything hurt. He could barely breathe. His chest had seized up from fear.  
“Spence!” a voice shouted, and Reid stilled. It belonged to a woman. Jamie, maybe? No, she didn’t call him Spence. He knew only one person who did.  
“JJ?” he whispered, staring up as at her heartbroken face finally appeared, a bruise forming on cheek. “Oh god, I-” he swallowed, staring in horror at the patch of blue and gray that he had just inflicted upon her.  
“I’m fine, Spencer,” she replied softly, releasing his wrists she had been holding in an attempt to stop his flailing. “But you clearly aren’t.”  
“It’s nothing,” he assured her, but his emotions were still raw from being revisited by some of his greatest demons. He couldn’t hold it back anymore. “Just- everything. What did I do wrong?” Reid whimpered. Raphael’s words were still ringing in his ears.  
“Nothing, Spencer,” JJ murmured. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”  
“But I must’ve done something,” Reid argued. “Why else would all this happen to me?” He could feel his eyes tearing up but furiously blinked the moisture away. He wouldn’t cry. Not in front of JJ. He repeated the mantra over and over in his head, trying to push back the contents of his nightmare that were still crystal clear. His body refused to listen. Tears crept out of his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. He had never asked for this, for any of this. Being so smart, his dad leaving him, growing up with a schizophrenic mother, being bullied throughout school, Gideon and Elle leaving, Tobias abducting him, and now Evan violating him in multiple ways. Why did everything have to happen to him? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t FAIR!  
He must’ve said the last part aloud, because next thing he knew, JJ tenderly wrapped her arms around him. At first he tried to squirm away, not wanting to be touched, but after a minute, he relaxed into her hold. Finally, he let the dam crumble and began to sob into her shoulder. JJ didn’t seem to mind. She didn’t scold him for being weak, didn’t scream that he was a baby, didn’t order him to man up. She simply rubbed circles into her back, slowly rocking him back and forth at a steady pace.  
“It’ll be okay, Spence,” JJ breathed. “I promise you, it will all work out. You’ll be okay.”  
If only he could bring himself to believe her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was it okay? Too angsty? Not angsty enough? (Is angsty even a word?) Or was it a big load of crap? I really appreciate it when you guys let me know how I'm doing.  
> Thank you so so SO much for reading, and I hope you all have a wonderful day. :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eek! I'm so sorry about such a long wait! I've been super busy! To make up for it, I wrote an extra-long chapter. Hope it's okay! A mild chapter, at least as far as chapters that I write go. A bit of angst and hurt/comfort. Some Morgan and Hotch in this chapter, too.  
> Just real quick, I want to say how thankful and humbled I am by your feedback! I didn't stop smiling all day! You guys are the best. Seriously. Virtual hugs to all of you!  
> Anyway, enjoy!

Morgan entered the hospital room, only to find Spencer fast asleep and JJ sitting on the foot of his bed, watching his chest rise and fall, her gaze so intense that Morgan wouldn’t be surprised if she expected Reid’s chest to stop moving as soon as she looked away.  
“Hey,” Morgan said quietly, and JJ jumped, startled. She tore her gaze away from Reid and relaxed when she saw who it was. “How long has he been asleep?”  
“An hour, maybe,” JJ answered.  
“So he woke up?” Morgan asked hopefully. “Did he say anything?”  
“A bit. He was having a nightmare.” She touched the bruise on her cheek and sighed. “He didn’t tell me what it was about, but based on what he was screaming,” Morgan flinched. “And what he’s been through, it’s not hard to guess.” She paused, biting the inside of her cheek before adding, “He said it was his fault, that he must’ve done something wrong to deserve all this.”  
Morgan clenched his jaw and refrained from punching the nearest thing, seeing as that was JJ, and he doubted she’d appreciate being hit. “Well, it isn’t,” he growled.  
“I know, Morgan,” she said soothingly. “That’s what I told him.”  
He exhaled slowly and glanced over at Reid. He looked so innocent when he was asleep- young and carefree, almost angelic, which was only enhanced by his paler-than-usual skin and long hair splayed around his head on the pillow. But the bandage on his jaw and bruise on his temple ruined the image. And Evan was the one who had put them there. If Reid hadn’t killed the man already, he’d have finished Evan off himself. Morgan crossed his arms over his chest and forced his attention back to JJ. “You know, someone’ll have to talk to him about all this. It’s not good to keep things like this to yourself.”  
“Says the kettle to the pot,” JJ replied, but there was no hostility in her tone, just sorrow. Everyone on their team had trouble with opening up, and they all knew it. “He might reach out to you.”  
Morgan sat down next to her. “I figured. But he could just as easily turn to you. You’re family to him, and you have experience talking to people about things like this.”  
“But I don’t,” JJ protested with a bitter laugh. “It’s different this time. He’s not just any victim. Like you just said, he’s family to me.”  
Morgan didn’t know what to say to that, so thy sat in silence for a few minutes, before JJ yawned, which failed to escape Morgan’s notice. “You should go home and rest,” Morgan told her. “Eat, take a shower, sleep. You’ve been sitting with him for almost six hours, and you haven’t slept in days. I’ll call you and the rest of the team if he’s ready for company.”  
“I’m not the only one who hasn’t slept,” JJ pointed out, but she still rose. “I should probably get back to tuck Henry in.” With one last glance at Reid, she exited the room, leaving behind a not-so-peacefully sleeping Spencer and a troubled Morgan.  
* * * * * * * * * *  
Reid woke up a few times over the next few days, each time to a new person keeping him company. First Morgan, then Prentiss, then Garcia. He only stayed awake long enough to sip some water through a straw, eat a cup of Jell-O, and deflect any inquiries about his wellbeing, before laying back down and returning to the wonderfully-numb haze called slumber.  
The next time he woke up, it was to Hotch seated in a chair, flipping through a case file. He didn’t notice Reid stirring, and for that, the young agent was grateful. He needed some time to himself, without the barrage of questions and physical contact.  
“You’ll need to talk to someone about this,” Hotch spoke up, and Reid flinched in surprise, unaware that Hotch must have seen him wake up. ‘Evan did that a lot,’ a voice in his brain brought up. ‘Sit by you and wake for you to wake up, and then start talking out of nowhere.’ “Morgan, JJ, Prentiss, Garcia, Rossi… We’re all here for you.”  
Reid shifted in his bed. He knew that, but he didn’t want to talk about what happened. He didn’t want to relive it all. He didn’t want to be pitied. “How’s Jamie?” Reid asked, changing the subject.  
“She was released yesterday,” Hotch replied. “Her dad had been working late. He already scheduled therapy for her. She wanted to say goodbye, but you were asleep.”  
“Oh.” Reid didn’t know how to feel. He’d heard Hotch’s silent hint when he mentioned therapy, but Reid was purposely ignoring it. On one hand, he had really wanted to see Jamie one last time, see her safe. On the other, she was back with family. She was at home. And if he did see her, he didn’t know what he would say to her. There were no words that could make it all better. Perhaps it was for the best that she was already gone.  
Hotch sighed. “I have to be back at work in an hour. Rossi is coming here next. The doctor said to make sure you get plenty of sleep.” Reid sensed the invitation and he took it. He rolled onto his side, wincing at the pain it caused, and closed his eyes. All he wanted to do was go to sleep and never wake up again. But that was the same as dying, wasn’t it? And he didn’t want to die.  
Did he?  
No, he decided. He just wanted this all to be over. He wanted to forget about Evan. But memories are funny that way. The more you want to forget something, the more you seem to remember it.  
* * * * * * * * * *  
It was pitch black. The air was stuffy. Spencer squinted, trying to let his eyes adjust to the darkness, but they couldn’t.  
“Hello?” he called out, only to have a hand clamp over his mouth. He gasped and tried to scream, but the hand muffled his voice.  
“Shh, Spencer!” his mom hissed. “They’ll hear us!” She waited for Spencer to nod before removing her hand.  
“Who will hear us?”  
“The government! They came for us.” Reid sighed. He knew what was happening now. His mom was having one of her episodes- a bad one, if their current situation was anything to go by- and had dragged him into the closet with her to hide from the supposed government agents that she believed to be right outside. He was still panicking from being trapped in such a small, dark place, but the utter terror had subsided.  
“Mom, there’s no one out there. I promise,” Reid insisted. He wanted to get out. Even though he was 12- a young adult, practically- the dark still scared him. He pushed himself to his feet and felt around for the door.  
“No! Spencer, get back here!”  
Reid ignored her protests and pushed open the door, then turned back to his mom. “See, no one’s here.”  
“Are you sure about that?” a man asked, and Reid spun around. His mom’s bedroom wasn’t empty, like he had first thought. It was full of people. He screamed and tried to slam the door shut, only to realize the door wasn’t there anymore. He wasn’t even in his house. He was completely naked and tied to the football field’s goalpost. Spencer scanned the crowd and his fear only grew as he picked out faces. Philip Dowd. Tobias Hankel. Charles Hankel. Raphael. Evan. His father. Gideon. Parker Daniels. Alexa Lisbon. Harper Hillman. All of his high school bullies. Everyone who had ever hurt him. They were all laughing at him, enjoying his suffering and humiliation.  
“Please!” he begged them. “Please just let me down!”  
“You’re weak!” Charles yelled.  
“I can make it go away,” Tobias offered, and he stepped forward, a syringe in hand. Reid tried to back away, but there was nowhere to go. Then the needle pierced his skin right next to where the rope was wrapped around his arm. Reid was sobbing now, begging Tobias to stop. He didn’t want it. He didn’t WANT IT!  
“No!” Reid cried, thrashing against the ropes. “No!”  
“Reid!” a familiar voice was calling to him. He searched the gathering, trying to find the speaker. “Reid! Wake up!” Morgan. But what was Morgan doing here? Had he come to enjoy Reid’s misery as well? “Come on kid!”  
Reid’s eyes flew open and he gasped, his surroundings coming into focus. He was in a hospital bed, the heart monitor near him beeping at an elevated rate.  
“You’re okay, Reid,” Morgan said softly. “Take a deep breath. You’re okay.” Reid forced his breathing to slow, and the beeping returned to a regular speed. He wasn’t with Evan. He wasn’t tied to that goalpost. He was safe.  
“Nightmare?” Morgan guessed, and Reid half-heartedly shrugged. He wasn’t in the mood for talking about what happened, but he knew Morgan would interrogate him until he did. “Do you want to talk about it?” Reid almost laughed at how easily he had predicted Morgan’s next question. He shook his head and Morgan let out a sigh, then grabbed something from Reid’s bedside table- a paper cup full of water- and held it to Reid’s mouth. Reid tensed, recalling how Evan had once done the exact same thing, but the dryness in his mouth convinced him to give in.  
“Pretty Boy, we need to talk.” Reid fought the urge to snap at him. He’d known this was coming. Morgan was his best friend, after all. But that didn’t mean he would tolerate it. He just wanted to be left alone.  
“Morgan, I don’t want to talk about it.”  
“Reid, you need to-”  
“I don’t NEED to do anything! I’m fine!”  
“No, you’re not, kid. You want to be, but you aren’t.”  
“Damnit, Derek! Won’t you just shut up and leave me alone for once?” Morgan winced at the venom in Reid’s shouting, but Spencer didn’t regret it. He was tired, hungry, restless, frustrated, and in pain all at once. The barely-suppressed memories of why he was in the hospital in the first place were giving him a headache. It was wearing away at the little patience he had left. He was on the verge of a massive breakdown. And breaking down was something he didn’t want Morgan to see him do. To stop it from completely overwhelming him, he chose the first Lord of the Rings book and began to mentally recite it: “When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton.  
Bilbo was very rich and very peculiar, and had been the wonder of the Shire for sixty years, ever since his remarkable disappearance and unexpected return. The riches he had brought back from his travels had now become a local legend, and it was popularly believed, whatever the old folk might say-”  
His mental recitation was cut off by Morgan asking if he wanted any Jell-O. Reid nodded, ignoring the empathy and sadness visible in his friend’s eyes. Spencer watched him stop a passing nurse. She chuckled at his request but returned with a tray of various flavors anyway, insisting that Reid looked in need of some extra calories. Reid laughed it off, but he knew it was true. He’d always been skinny, from a mixture of his genes and his tendency to survive purely on coffee. While with Evan, he only had a slice of bread and some vitamins, and he’d spent the majority of his time at the hospital so far sleeping. Reid had lost weight that he hadn’t needed to. He practically inhaled the Jell-O and laid back down, already feeling tired again.  
“Do you need anything else?” Morgan asked, and Reid felt a stab of guilt. He had just yelled at Morgan to shut up, and here he still was, doing everything he could for him.  
“Something to do,” Reid responded, then hesitated before adding, “I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t worry about it,” Morgan reassured him. “I’ll call Prentiss and ask her to bring you some books from your apartment. She still has the key. Any requests?”  
Reid shook his head and let his eyes close while Morgan called Prentiss. The bed was soft, and his eyelids felt impossibly heavy. They must’ve put him on sedatives. Either that, or his lack of coffee during the past few days was catching up to him.  
He was jolted out of his semi-consciousness by a knock on the door. A short, tawny-haired nurse entered the room, a clipboard in hand.  
“Good afternoon, Dr. Reid,” he greeted. “I’m Dr. Hammond. I’m here to run a quick check-up and see how much longer we need to hold you here. Sorry that you’ve been out for so long. We were told you didn’t want any narcotics, and since we had to re-break a couple of bones that were healing wrong, you were given the strongest painkillers that didn’t contain morphine. I’m afraid they knocked you out. Fortunately, that rest gave your body the chance to begin recovering.” He paused. “So, how are you feeling today?”  
“Fine,” Reid muttered, and Dr. Hammond raised his eyebrows. Reid corrected himself. “A little sore. Homesick.”  
“Well, there’s not a whole lot I can do for either of those things at the moment. I can, however, change your bandages and make sure everything is healing properly. If you’re doing well enough, I can sign off for releasing you tomorrow.” Dr. Hammond walked over to Reid’s side, fresh bandages and some cleaning supplies in tow. He started with Reid’s left hand, and then moved on to his other hand and arm, before continuing to the rest of his injuries. Once everything was done, he stood back up and tossed his latex gloves in the trash.  
“Everything looks good,” he announced. “With your signature, I can have you out tomorrow morning. As long as no new problems present themselves, you’ll recover. There will be some scarring and minor nerve damage. Your left hand will suffer some minor muscle damage as well, mostly centered around your middle finger, but with some physical therapy, you'll be able to move it. Other than that, you should be alright. If you need anything, feel free to ask.”  
“Thank you,” Reid said sincerely, but when he finally left, Reid was extremely relieved. Although Dr. Hammond had been gentle, it was impossible to completely avoid making contact. Every time his hand brushed Reid’s skin, it took every ounce of self-control in his body to not shudder and jerk away.  
“Did you hear that, Pretty Boy? You can go back home tomorrow.”  
Reid took a deep breath, the sharp scent of cleaning chemicals tickling his nose, and forced a smile. “Yah.” In truth, he was conflicted. He desperately wanted to go back home, where everything was comforting and familiar, but his home was also where he’d been abducted from. He would be on constant high-alert, jumping at every small noise and unsure if the shape in the dark was a lamp or person. “So, did I miss any Bureau drama?”  
Morgan understood the subject change and gladly told him about the latest scandal between agents John Laurens and Ed Mulligan. He talked until Prentiss arrived, two cloth bags on each arm. She unloaded all the books that were in the four bags and stacked them next to Reid- all 23 of them, in various languages and genres. Reid thanked her profusely and she smiled, saying she was glad to see him awake. Reid understood the implications. Sure, she was happy that he was awake, but it was mostly relief that he was alive. Prentiss took Morgan’s spot, insisting that Derek should go home and sleep, and then picked a Russian book out of the pile before settling into the chair Morgan had previously occupied. They stayed in comfortable silence for a few hours, both happily reading, until the world around them grew dark. Prentiss glanced up from her book when she heard a loud exhalation, and smiled when she saw Reid dozing. He looked so young, so serene, when he slept. Prentiss read for a little while longer, until she too was drowsy, and let her eyes fall shut. Soon, she too was pulled into the depths of unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, poor Reid. :( At least he has friends looking out for him. Like always, I REALLY appreciate feedback. It helps motivate me to write!  
> Just a quick question- I'm gonna do a time-skip eventually to when Reid returns to work. How much longer do you want me to write this type of stuff before I do that? (Don't worry, that doesn't mean I'm finishing up. I still have a few more chapters AT THE VERY LEAST).  
> Thank you SO much for reading, and I hope you all have a wonderful day! And to anyone who's celebrating Thanksgiving tomorrow, happy holidays!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reid asks Garcia for Jamie Wilcox's address and goes to finally talk to her about everything that happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I'm so, SO sorry how long it took me to post this! I'm always crazy-busy around holiday times, and on top of all of that, I've been dealing with some personal issues, as well as multiple family members being hospitalized. But, alas, that's no excuse for a 2(?) week long break. But don't worry- I'll NEVER abandon a story, especially one with so many AMAZING readers! :D  
> I'm not exactly sure how this chapter turned out, but after three hours straight of re-writing bits, I decided to just post it. Apologies, like always, for any mistakes. I don't have a beta, so all mistakes are mine.  
> Anyway, sorry again for the hiatus. Thanks so much for being such INCREDIBLE readers! :D I hope you enjoy!

Reid nervously shifted from foot to foot, staring at the door in front of him, good hand frozen inches from the doorbell. He hadn’t moved from that position in the last 72 seconds, still trying to make up his mind if he should press it or not. His decision was made for him, however, when the door swung open, causing him to jump. Standing in the doorway was a portly man, chin speckled with dark stubble. The man’s mouth opened, then closed, as he slowly recovered from the initial shock. Reid glanced down and realized there was a newspaper by his feet- most likely the reason the man had opened the front door in the first place.   
“No, I don’t want to buy anything,” he grumbled, moving to close the door, but Reid grabbed it with his less-injured hand before he could. It had taken him all day to work up the courage to do this, and he wasn’t going to just leave without what he came for.  
“Wait!” Reid cried. “I’m not a salesman. My name is Dr. Spencer Reid. Are you Patrick Wilcox?” When he nodded, Reid sighed with relief. It would’ve been humiliating to have come to the wrong address. He took a deep breath and managed to say, “Is your daughter home?”  
“What do you want with Jamie?” he asked accusingly, his stance adjusting ever so slightly, but Reid saw the change. He was changing from defensive to offensive, ready to strike him down, eyeing Reid’s multiple injuries as if calculating how to use Reid’s weaknesses to his advantage. Reid guessed ex-military, or even ex-police. Reid completely understood Mr. Wilcox’s protectiveness, though, and wanted to smack himself for not thinking of that. After having his daughter kidnapped by a strange man, he had every right to be suspicious of male strangers standing on his doorstep, asking to see her.  
“I’m with the FBI, actually,” Reid hastily explained. “I’m Agent Spencer Reid with the Behavioral Analysis Unit. May I speak to Jamie Wilcox?”  
He frowned, and Reid quickly drew his badge. After a moment of studying it, Mr. Wilcox finally sighed. “I don’t know what you want with her. You feds have already come around here.” Despite his obvious reluctance, he still turned slightly to the house behind him and called, “Jamie! Someone’s here to see you!” He turned back to Spencer, still glaring at him, until Reid could hear footsteps and an extremely familiar young girl appeared behind her father.  
“Spencer?” she breathed, so quiet he barely heard her. Her dad spun around and gaped at her.   
“You know this man?” he demanded, but his tone had lost its harsh edge.   
“Yah,” she admitted, biting her lip and sneaking a glance at Reid before returning her gaze to Patrick. Reid watched the scene play out, not sure if he should intervene. “He’s the agent I told you about. Remember? Spencer?”  
Patrick inhaled sharply and his eyes widened. Clearly, Jamie had already told her father about him. Reid wasn’t sure if he should be worried or relieved. “Oh- I- I apologize, Agent,” he stammered. “I didn’t realize- thank you,” he eventually said. “Thank you so much for protecting my little girl.” He extended his hand outwards, most likely for a handshake, but he seemed to recall Reid’s injuries, because he quickly withdrew it and cleared his throat. “My apologies, sir. I’m Patrick Wilcox. Come in, come in.” He ushered a mildly confused Spencer into the house. “Do you want anything to drink?” he continued, leading him into a small but cozy living room. Reid observed the room, noticing all the photos of Jamie and her father, as well as a police medal hung on the wall. So he had been correct about Mr. Wilcox being part of the force. Reid realized he had been asked a question and politely declined, still studying the room. The medal was hung more to the side, and a large picture of a younger Jamie, Patrick, and another man (Reid assumed he was her older brother by the resemblance) took the center instead. It demonstrated that he valued his family more than anything- a good trait for a single father.  
“Dad, would you mind if we talked?” Jamie asked pointedly. Thankfully, her dad took the hint, though reluctantly. Once they were finally alone, Jamie tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace. She fixed her attention on Reid’s chin, purposely avoiding eye contact.  
“How are you doing?” Reid asked, sinking onto the couch.  
“Alright, I guess,” Jamie answered, taking a seat opposite of him. “I just- it hasn’t fully sunk in yet. Doing better than you, though,” she gestured to his sling, and suddenly, Reid understood. She felt guilty.  
“None of this is your fault, you know,” he reminded her. “If anything, it’s mine for being stupid enough to be abducted again in the first place.”  
Jamie’s head snapped up. “Again?”  
Reid cleared his throat. He hadn’t meant to say that; it had slipped out of his mouth. “Yah. A few years ago, there was a… mentally ill man named Tobias. But don’t worry about me. I want to know how you’re coping. Mentally, I mean. ‘Dissociation is the common response of children to repetitive, overwhelming trauma and holds the untenable knowledge out of awareness.’” Reid quoted softly. “Judith Spencer.”  
Jamie seemed mildly shocked at his ability to quote something like that, but didn’t comment on it, which was liberating. “It’s not so much being abducted,” she said, forcing the last word out with only a slight tremble. “It’s more the ‘Oh, god, I shot someone’ part.”  
“That’s completely normal,” Reid assured her. “People like your dad and I are trained, prepared, for the moment we pull the trigger, for months. Even then, it still takes a while to process something like that, and even longer to come to terms with it. You’ve never had any training. You just picked up a gun and fired it, not sure if you would even hit the target.”  
“How did you know my dad was in the police?” she asked.  
“I’m a profiler. It’s my job to look at people and figure them out.”  
“Oh,” was her quiet response. “But, I mean, you were the one who killed him. You were the one that he hurt. You were the one that he-” she stopped, her voice shaking even more than her hands. Reid squeezed his eyes shut. He’d been hoping, praying, that Jamie hadn’t witnessed any of that. That she hadn’t witnessed Evan raping him. But there was only so much that closed eyes and covered ears could block out. “Are YOU okay?” she settled on.  
Reid didn’t reply. In truth, he wasn’t. He wanted to be- oh, he desperately wanted to be. But he wasn’t. He was better, of course. Better than his first week back, which he spent in a constant state of misery. All day, he’d struggled to distract himself from the horrors lurking in his mind. At night, the horrors came to light. Not only did he dream of Evan, but all of his past tormentors. His most recent traumatic experience seemed to have broken the dam, letting all of his worst memories flood his sleep. Then he would wake up in complete darkness, frozen in fear, convinced that the lamp in the corner was actually a person lying in wait. To make matters worse, his cravings had come back with a vengeance. He would’ve gone to an NA meeting, but he hadn’t been able to drag himself out of his apartment for more food, much less a meeting. When Hotch came to check on him, he’d been curled up in a ball on the floor, one arm weakly reaching for the phone, about to finally give in and call his old dealer.  
At first, Reid had been utterly humiliated to have his boss see him in such a vulnerable state, but embarrassment quickly morphed into gratefulness. Hotch had grabbed some of his clothes and loaded him into his car, and then drove Reid back to his house. The change in scenery was refreshing, as well as the human socialization. Hotch still had to work, but had managed to negotiate a week off of non-local cases (Reid figured Hotch had somehow managed to intimidate Strauss into agreeing- either that, or Rossi was the one who did the persuading). Hotch didn’t judge him when he woke up from excruciatingly-vivid nightmares, sobbing loudly. Or when he found himself in a full-blown panic attack triggered by waking up from a nap on the couch to Death Wish 2 playing on the TV. Aaron had simply offered a source of stability for Reid to lean on. Jack had even been an immense help- on the first night, in his youthful innocence, had seen how Reid was struggling to fall asleep with the light on and offered him a night light instead.   
But Reid didn’t know how to explain all of that to Jamie, so instead, he simply shrugged. “It depends on the definition of “okay” you’re referring to. If you’re asking if I’m ‘satisfactory, but not exceptionally or especially good’, then I’d say yes, I’m okay.”  
Jamie smiled, and Reid smiled back at her. “I can see why you’re Dr. Reid,” she told him, then her smile faded. “I never thanked you, Spencer. You- you protected me, even though it meant you got hurt. Even after all he did to you…” she surveyed his multitude of injuries, and then at last made eye contact. Reid was surprised by the amount of gratitude conveyed by such a simple gesture.   
And Spencer knew, in that moment, if he had to go through it all again, he’d make the same decision without hesitation, if it meant that fate would never befall upon her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter should be up quicker- I started writing it during English today, so there's not as much to do. Happy Hanukkah to anyone who celebrates it! I hope your holiday is going fantastic so far. Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you all have a wonderful day!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end is finally here...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!  
> Sorry it's been such a RIDICULOUSLY long time! I kept getting caught up in school changes, new fandoms (*cough* Arrow, Flash, Check Please, and Steven Universe *cough*), other possible fanfiction ideas, sickness and death in the family, and a million other things, and this kept getting shoved to the side until I wanted to update but had lost the inspiration and drive. So, so, so sorry about that! I'm back, and with the last chapter! It's extra-long to make up for the break. This has been such an amazing experience and you all have been so incredible. So sorry for such a long delay!  
> Special thanks to phyoaros for the encouragement (and constant nagging), and betaing this last chapter. You're the best!  
> I'll warn you now that, although I did a bit of research, I'm not an expert in hospitals, health, hacking, or any other elements mentioned in this chapter or any chapters before it.   
> Without further ado, here it is! (and sorry in advance for the cheesy ending, I watched Into the Woods and couldn't resist ;))

Spencer surveyed his surroundings with a mixture of relief, comfort, and anxiety. Four months. Four months of healing, both physically and mentally, before he’d been allowed to return. Technically, it had been four months, one week, and three days (not that he’d been counting or anything). The bullpen was exactly how he remembered it- desks covered in piles of paperwork, Hotch watching from his lofty position, the smell of ink and coffee, the constant hum of noise. He had missed this.

“Pretty Boy!” Morgan called, and Reid spun around. He was greeted with the sight of a grinning Derek holding two cups of coffee. “Hotch said you were coming back today!” He handed one of the cups to Reid, who took a tentative sip. Cheap, crappy Bureau coffee overwhelmed by the sheer amount of sugar. The taste made him smile. He’d had his doubts about returning, unsure how much his captivity would impact working cases, but after over four months, his therapist had deemed him ready for the Bureau. She was honestly the only reason he was standing in the bullpen and not dissolving into a panic attack. He took a deep breath. The terror from returning to work was slowly subsiding, giving way to content. It felt wonderful to be back to his second home, to once again be amongst his family.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Morgan asked quietly. “If you need more time off, we’d all understand, Strauss be damned.”

Reid had to laugh at that. Strauss had been pushing for him to either come back or quit altogether. She was sick of having to find temporary replacements. “I’m fine, Morgan. Besides, it’s not like-”

“We have a case!” Hotch announced. His gaze locked onto Reid, and Spencer understood the unspoken question. Was he going to come? Reid gave him a firm nod.

“-we have a case,” Reid finished, grumbling. Morgan snorted and Reid prided himself when Morgan ruffled his hair affectionately and he didn’t flinch at all. Once again, he silently thanked Dr. Linnen for everything she’d done. Reid picked up his messenger bag that he had just set down and grabbed his go-bag, amazed to find it still in the bottom drawer of his desk. “Still, it’s good to be back. I’ve been bored out of my mind. I’ve gone through 89 documentaries. Did you know that-”

“It’s good to have you back, kid,” Morgan interrupted with a fond smile. “C’mon, wheel’s up in 30.”

* * * * * * * * * *

The case went surprisingly well. At least, it did for Reid. Not so much for Morgan. It had been a LDSK case with a body count of 17 before they even arrived. The third shooting had occurred while they were still on the flight to Flint, Michigan. They could tell it was a hate crime before they even saw the first crime scene. All of the victims had been black, which hit an obvious nerve with Morgan. They established a profile fairly quickly: white male, late 30’s to mid-40’s, military background. Mission-oriented. He thought he was “purging” his town of the “unclean”. Single. Probably arrested for assault in the past. They had seen this type before. They caught him as he was preparing for a fourth shooting. Morgan was more than happy to be the one to tackle and handcuff him, and if he was more aggressive than strictly necessary, no one said anything. The only part that went wrong was when Morgan woke up in the middle of the night to Reid screaming and thrashing around under his covers. The number of nightmares had gone down significantly, from two or three every night to a few every week, but Morgan had still been worried. Reid brushed off his concern, assuring him that he was perfectly fine. Reid didn’t know how much Morgan had believed him, but he had to have trusted Reid’s assurance enough to not tell Hotch.

* * * * * * * * * *

The next case, however, was worse. Before JJ even passed out the case files, she pulled him aside and told him no one would judge him if he sat this one out. It made his stomach churn, considering all the possibilities of why JJ was so concerned, but he squared his shoulders and joined the team at the table anyway. Almost as soon as he sat down, Reid discovered the reason for JJ’s apprehension. He opened the file as JJ began to explain the case. As Reid read the reports, his stomach began to twist itself into knots.

Four young men, all abducted and held for two days before they were found strangled and dumped in secluded areas in Baltimore. None of that was particularly unsettling- maybe for a normal person, but for them, it was mild. The part that had Reid tasting bile in his mouth was what the ME had discovered.

JJ cleared her throat. “There were signs of repeated sexual assault in all four victims.”

Repeated sexual assault. Repeated sexual assault. Repeated sexual assault. The words rang in his ears as he tried to focus on what he was reading. His head was spinning as his lungs were already threatening to close up. His chest ached and he could hear his escalating heartbeat in his ears. The room was closing in on him. Evan, driving hands and feet into him with all the force he could muster. Dragging a knife through his skin. Pinning down his battered body. Thrusting- He pushed down the memories with all his might. Now wasn’t the time, nor the place. Reid clenched his jaw and forced himself to take a deep breath in and slowly let it out, ignoring the wave of nausea crashing down. It was only words. Words printed neatly on a piece of paper. Words that meant very little if they were each on their own. Repeated: adjective. Done or occurring again several times in the same way. Sexual: adjective. relating to the instincts, physiological processes, and activities connected with physical attraction or intimate physical contact between individuals. Assault: noun. A physical attack*. They were all just words. Words were something he could deal with. He’d dealt with them his whole life. He could do this. Three more deep breaths and he was no longer on the verge of a panic attack, so he risked looking up, only to be met with anxious looks coming from all his teammates.

“Reid?” Hotch asked hesitantly. The way he said it made him suspect he had been trying to get Reid’s attention for a while. “Reid, are you alright?”

Reid nodded and cleared his throat. “Sorry. You were saying?”

“Spencer, you can sit this one out,” Prentiss reminded him softly. “We would understand.”

“I can do this, Emily,” he replied firmly. “If it gets to be too much, I’ll stop. But I’m fine.” He was getting tired of saying those words.

He gave JJ a reassuring nod, and she reluctantly continued, giving them a bit of background information before Hotch decided they could discuss the rest on the plane. He delivered the usual “wheels up in 30”, and then they were off, fetching their things. Reid dodged the rest of the team, making a quick stop at the bathroom to splash some water on his face and regain his tentative composure before boarding the jet. He needed to do this. If he didn’t face his demons now, Reid didn’t know if he’d ever be able to.

After the jet took off, the team gathered in the center of the plane and Reid joined them with a second cup of overly-sweet coffee. Reid chimed in with statistics in between sips, already starting to form a profile of his own using Evan as a model. Middle-aged white male, based on his victims. Sadistic. Controlling. Probably had a record of either assault or domestic violence (or at least accusations). Enjoys humiliating his victims by dumping their stripped, bloody corpses in semi-public places.

“Hey, Reid,” Rossi murmured from next to him. “I can practically see the cogs turning in that brain of yours. Anything you can give us?”

Reid jumped slightly, just realizing how long he had been silent. “I’m working on a profile.”

“Rossi, come with me to the latest crime scene. Prentiss and Morgan, I need you to look at victimology and talk to family and friends. Reid, start a geographical profile. JJ, this guy is obviously thriving in all the attention. Talk to the media and ask them to tone it down.”

And so, they were off. Reid was well-aware that Hotch was trying to keep him holed up in the station, even though he could be a valuable asset elsewhere. But as soon as the team arrived at the police station, everything changed. An officer ran out to meet them, bringing horrifying news: a 19-year old male named Jeremiah Fillman had just been seen being abducted in an alley. He fit the physical portion of victimology to a tee. Now, instead of just being a serial killer hunt, it was a rescue mission too. Hotch reassigned Reid to victimology and Prentiss to the old woman who had witnessed the abduction. Everything developed a slightly frantic edge to it. They were now operating under a time limit.

By the afternoon, Reid and Morgan had formed a profile based on victimology, and they compared it with the one Prentiss, Hotch, and Rossi had made. All the officers gathered around the team, waiting to hear the analysis that would decide Jeremiah’s fate.

“We’re looking for a middle-aged white male, in his late 30’s to early 40’s. We believe him to be sadistic and controlling, which most likely will be reflected on his record. Look for charges of assault, domestic violence, maybe rape. If he hasn’t been charged with anything, he’s at least been suspected of it. He gets off on humiliating his victims, even after death. This is shown in how he dumps his victims in semi-public places. He’s strong and enjoys feeling powerful and in-control. This mindset might be amplified by a menial job, probably with a physical aspect. He’ll definitely be following the case on the news, so he’ll know we’re here. However, we doubt his time frame will change, since he always has to be in control. This means he’ll try to kill Jeremiah before we can get him. If cornered, we believe he’ll either target Jeremiah or attempt suicide as one final act of complete control. Questions?”

Reid tuned out the noise coming from the briefing and focused on the geographic profile Hotch had instructed him to start on. Garcia was compiling a list of possible suspects and Reid was narrowing down the Unsub’s location. Both pieces coming together would dramatically shrink the suspect pool. He was trying to focus on the calculations, but his mind kept straying to JJ’s first statement when presenting the case. Secluded areas…

All four victims had been found in alleys. Why those alleys in particular though? Reid studied the thumbtacks marking the exact locations. The only similarity was that the alleys were all next to some sort of housing. Hotch had also reported seeing a dumpster in each alley, which was how they had decided he was seeking attention. He could’ve easily just dumped the bodies in the dumpsters instead. Reid grabbed his case file and removed all the photos, and grabbed a pencil off the table. He examined each photo closely, trying to discern what they all had in common. He was so focused, he didn’t even notice Rossi come in until the man was already speaking.

“How’s the location coming along?” the older man asked.

“Did you notice any cardboard in the dumpsters at the crime scenes?” was Reid’s reply.

Rossi thought for a moment before answering, “I believe so. At the first crime scene, I remember seeing a flattened UPS box. The dumpster lid hadn’t been able to close all the way because of it. Why? Do you have something?”

“In the background of the pictures of the third crime scene, you can see exactly what you just described,” Reid explained, passing Rossi one of the photos. “All of the alleys have dumpsters, and each of the crime scenes are directly next to some sort of residential structure. Weren’t there cardboard fibers found on the fourth body?” Reid inquired, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, there were,” Rossi agreed, realization slowly dawning on his face. As soon as the words left the older man’s mouth, Reid grabbed his phone and dialed Garcia.

“Hello, my fu-”

“Garcia?” Reid interrupted. “Is there a way for you to find any UPS routes that correspond with each dump site?”

“Of course, just a second,” Garcia said. The two men waited anxiously for her reply. “Yep, there seems to be a route that passes by each dump site. Deliveries were made to residences nearby each dump site. Do you want me to find out who drives that route?”

“Yes, thank you.” Reid could faintly hear the sounds of her keyboard clicking as Garcia rapidly typed. “It appears to be run by a Mr. Andrew Sullivan.” Another moment, before: “He fits the profile. Charged with two counts of assault but never convicted. I forgot how good you are at this. I’ll send everyone his info.”

“Thanks, Garcia,” Reid muttered, hanging up before turning back to Rossi.

“That can’t be a coincidence, right?” If he was wrong about this, the team would be wasting valuable time chasing after an innocent man. But if he was right…

“What can’t be a coincidence?” Reid jumped at the sudden sound of Hotch’s voice. “Did you two find something?”

“I think I found our Unsub.”

* * * * * * * * * *

“FBI!” Morgan yelled, slightly off-kilter from the deja-vu. Here he was, once again waiting outside the door of a rapist, desperately searching for a young man that they couldn’t even be sure was alive. “Andrew Sullivan, open up!” He pounded on the door again, but there still wasn’t any response.

“He’s probably at work,” Hotch muttered. “Kick it down.”

Morgan obliged, kicking the door down and immediately entering the room. Hotch and Prentiss were right behind him, as well as three police officers. They all split up, and Morgan gripped his gun tighter with each second of silence. What if Reid had been wrong? They’d all been wrong before, it was in the job description. He quickly covered the living room, calling out “clear!” when he was greeted with nothing out of the ordinary. Morgan continued on down the hallway, stopping when he found a door sealed with a deadbolt. He motioned Prentiss over and unlocked the deadbolt. He glanced over at Prentiss, who nodded, before pushing the door open.

As soon as the door opened and light flooded into the small space, Morgan inhaled sharply. Jeremiah was bound and gagged on the furthest side of the room, trying to call out but prevented by the cloth stuffed in his mouth.

“Jeremiah?” Prentiss lowered her weapon and slowly approached the trembling young man. “My name is Emily Prentiss. I’m with the FBI. I’m going to untie you, okay?” Morgan poked his head out of the room, calling, “Jeremiah’s in here!” before returning to Prentiss. She was trying to untie the knots, but to no avail. Morgan ended up having to fetch a knife from the kitchen and cut the ropes off while Prentiss called Reid to give him the news.

It was over. They had found him.

* * * * * * * * * *

Reid nervously hovered outside of Jeremiah’s hospital room, torn between giving him space and checking up on him. His decision was made before him when a hoarse voice from inside the room said, “I can see you out there.”

Reid sheepishly entered the room. Jeremiah was propped up in his bed, staring at the ceiling and tapping his fingers on the bed rail. He didn’t look over at Reid, or move at all.

“My name is Dr. Spencer Reid,” he said.

“Great, are you a goddamned shrink or somethin’?” Was Jeremiah’s irritated answer, though Reid could see him trembling.

“No, I’m with the FBI.”

“I don’t have anything to say to a fuckin’ cop,” Jeremiah snarled. “Doctor or not. I already told the other officer that.”

“I’m here to see how you’re doing,” Reid explained, twisting his hands. Maybe this had been a bad idea. “You’ve been through a traumatic event. I’d be surprised if you weren’t affected. We got Andrew Sullivan, the man who kidnapped you, but we’re still going to need a statement.” JJ was better at things like this. Better with strangers. Better with emotions. Yet she had sent Reid here instead, insisting it would be fine.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he growled. “Just leave me the fuck alone.” Reid studied his body language. His whole body was trembling. His fingers were tapping out the same pattern over and over. His eyes were red and puffy, like he’d been crying. Reid realized in that moment that Jeremiah was using hostility as a defense mechanism. Jeremiah wasn’t actually angry, just terrified and ashamed and so incredibly alone. Reid took a deep breath. He knew what to do. After all, those were feelings he’d been fighting his entire life. That is, until he met the BAU and found a family.

“You’re guilty,” Reid said quietly. “Though I’m not sure why.”

“Of course you aren’t! How could you ever know what it feels like!” he yelled.

Reid sighed. “Actually, I do.” He paused, sinking into a chair. “Evan Salinski. Almost five months ago, he, uh- he abducted me. Held me in his basement for almost a week. He… hurt me, like Andrew hurt you.”

“Oh,” Jeremiah whispered. “I’m sorry. I just-” the tapping stopped, and Reid saw him squeeze his eyes shut. It didn’t stop the single tear from slipping out and rolling down his cheek. “How am I fuckin’ supposed to look Andrés in the face now?” He gripped the rail so hard his knuckles turned white, and Reid saw a shudder shoot down his spine. “He’ll fucking hate me now.”

“Andrés?” Reid repeated. “Who’s- oh.” It finally dawned on him. Jeremiah had a boyfriend. A boyfriend who he now was afraid would want nothing to do with him. “Jeremiah, I need you to listen to me. If you care about Andrés so much, that must mean he cares about you too. And if he does, one event won’t change that.” He thought back to his time in the hospital, after both Evan and Tobias. How he pushed his team away and allowed himself to suffer silently. “He’ll try to help. Let him. Believe me. Someone there to support you will make all the difference. Just find that piece inside of you that is determined to pull through and hold on. Don’t let Andrew have the last say, or control you. He did bad things, horrible things, but you are more than what he did to you. You are more than your struggles and pain. You may never be the person you were a week ago again, but Andrés will still love you. You fought and you lived, and that’s something to be proud of, not ashamed or guilty. And if Andrés can’t respect that, if he doesn’t want to stick around, then you’ll be better off without him.”

“Thank you,” Jeremiah muttered. “I can’t- I- well…” He took a deep breath and restarted. “I was on my way home from work when someone- well, Andrew, grabbed me from behind and knocked me out. When I woke up…”

Reid recorded his words. He stayed still and listened as Jeremiah recounted the whole thing. It made his heart ache, but he didn’t try to comfort the young man. He’d be dealing with enough sympathy for years to come. What he needed now was the promise that Andrew would be put away for good, and for him to never get a chance to hurt Jeremiah, or anyone else, ever again. It was all that he could do.

By the time he finished his statement, his face was wet with tears. Reid stood up, unsure of how to help, but he was saved by the door being flung open.

“Jerry!” A man frantically cried. His eyes landed on Reid, and then Jeremiah in the hospital bed. “Jerry, holy shit, the cops told me you were here!” He rushed to his side and reached out, like he was going in for a hug, but then stopped. “Can I-”

Jeremiah cut him off by wrapping his arms around the man and pulling him down. “Andrés,” he breathed. Reid smiled, knowing when he was no longer needed. He quietly exited the room and walked back to the waiting area, where JJ was waiting for him with a case file open in her lap.

“How did it go?” she asked.

“I got his statement,” Reid replied. “And… I think it helped. Both of us.”

“Good,” she said with a small smile. “I’m glad.”

And for once, “good” actually matched what Reid felt. Evan was dead, and although Spencer knew he was yet another ghost that would haunt him for all of eternity, he’d finally managed to understand something that had been told to him countless times.  
No matter what happened to him, he wouldn’t be alone. He had a huge family that was more than ready to help and support him, if he let them. And for the first time in a long time, Reid felt at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is! Once again, thank you so much for all the support and sincerest apologies for the unplanned hiatus. I hope it wasn't too shitty or cheesy or anything like that!  
> I do have some ideas for other fanfictions floating around, so we'll see if I get around to posting any of them. I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did, and farewell!  
> Oh, and one last thing: feel free to bug me on tumblr. My url is full-time-insomniac, if any of you want to come say hi :)


End file.
